Meditation on Value

Value is defined as ethics, merit, worth or good.

All good is a gift from the Creator,

Hence, His creation is always good.

Yet, by abusing our planets’ waterways & ecosystems with our fossil fuel industry addictions & by ‘playing God’ (see Back To the Garden ) through genetically modifying our plant & animal foods, we decrease our valuable resources of clean, air, water, land & food & also detract from our usefulness as stewards of this Earth, its’ biodiversity & the human, animal & plant life on it.Where is the value in that?

Hopefully, we as humans will rediscover & redeem our worth by seeing the greater good in acting to protect our beautiful blue planet & all that the Great Artist created out of love for us. We must value creation to restore it & bring the Kingdom here on Earth because ‘faith without works is dead.’

By Màire Ní Bhroin




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Into A Moment Sublime

I cannot walk far distances… Or carry heavy things, Nor stand for great lengths of time Nor do many seemingly useful things in this world, Yet… I fall into moments of bliss. I am quite mathematically challenged, and somewhat awkward … Continue reading

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Summer Dreams Quietly of Spring

screenshot_2017-01-09-19-33-222Summer Quietly Dreams of Spring, As frozen ice melts… The Earth warms to the sun’s closer attitude, The icy cold looses its’ grip on solid ground, Where budding tulips & crocu…

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Summer Dreams Quietly of Spring

Summer Quietly Dreams of Spring,

As frozen ice melts…

The Earth warms to the sun’s closer attitude,

The icy cold looses its’ grip on solid ground,

Where budding tulips & crocus’ burst through frozen, snow-covered terrain,

The Artist arranges them here,

Against a background of pale, winter white

In startling bursts the colours explode…red, purple, orange, pink & gold,

Dramatic beauty shooting forth from this pale carpet of snow,

And now, His darling, Spring…crys with delight!

Màire Ní Bhroin

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Metaphysical poetry, ruminations about stars, constellations, consolations & love.

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A metaphysical poem in the tradition of ecstatic poets.

See also Love’s Flame


The stars tonight shine jewel-like,

Gently tucked into cerulean skies,

Abed like roses,

Starburst bouquet from heaven,

Bright consolation from above…


By Máire Ní Bhroin

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Back To the Garden

Back to the Garden by Máire Ni Bhroin


Let us all join, in one accord

To resist our planets’ plunderers

And all those who would ravage this country

For their own personal gain.

Those who give neither a thought nor a care,

For the lives they may ruin,

With their big oil and gas, big money schemes.

While they sully our clean waters…

And good soil is broken

With big fracking well pads,

Akin to Blakes’ Satanic mills

And this paradise too…is lost.

Let us say no, a thousand times no,

Before our children and their children

And their children too…

Choke on toxic air, water and GMO food,

Before they will cry-“Look Mother, the tap water lights on fire,

I cannot drink it and my bathwater gives me a rash.”

And ask their Father -“Why can’t I breathe this air without gasping…

And should my food taste like shale gas?”,

While the ground keeps on quaking and trembling under their feet.

The greed mongers will smile at their devilish works,

In  cleverly conning  some politicians with no foresight,

And poor honest folks, from whom the truth has been witheld,

Into ruining this precious, sacred country

With the lure of more jobs and the almighty dollar.

Speak up, before our priceless, blue pearl of a planet

Devolves slowly, into a nightmare of hellish destruction,

Done in by big shale gas,pipeline and tarsand project promoters,

And in our blindness, Natures’ perfect balance will be lost.

Before our own backyards and communities,

Become toxic beyond any repair…

Let us shout NO to the oil men…

And shout resoundingly YES to a greener era, of windmills, solar power,electric cars, cleaner air,

Pesticide free farms and land with fossil fuels kept in the ground,

YES! We human beings are rallying and taking our planet back to the future…

Back to the Garden again!

By Máire Ní Bhroin

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In This Small Town

In this little town,

They whisper… in quiet undertones

Irish trash…

Sometimes, the “J” word too.

They think no one can hear,

Or see what they do.

Even the “N” word, at times,

Is murmured behind many a persons’ back.

In this small-minded town.

I suppose this town is, unfortunately,

Like Northern Ireland used to be…

Mired in the hushed toned darkness

Of past hates.

Oh forgive them, again and again…

Please, weep and pray for these towns,

For what they could have been,

And pray more, for what they could be,

And pray too, for those dear people left there,

Struggling to live in peace & liberty.

Presently, some souls are awake,

Now on permanent vacation

From this sleepy, old town mentality…

No one can steal their souls from them

Nor make them cry or bleed,

Dark past being now, just a faded memory.

Yes, maybe one day Love will conquer all…

But, for now just trust in Him,

In this LOVE you will always be free!

By Máire Ní Bhroin

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