Home » Poems » Laura Gail Sweeney » New Grange, the Cradle of Celtic Culture

Notes About The Poem

I originally wrote this poem while at Newgrange in Ireland in 2010. I first self-published it in my book entitled 'Irish Giants Poetry Chapbook' (2010). A few modifications have been made since the first publication. Therefore, this version is slightly different.

New Grange, the Cradle of Celtic Culture

The pure stream rumbles out, surely sacred
With magical properties evoking sighs.
Ancient secrets of this place become naked.
Suspicions, therefore, do quickly arise.

Will fertility come to its demise,
Or will seeds of ideas, thus, be blended
For evoking unique spiritual highs
In pure streams of light where the rumble ended?

On we go to the Valley of Kings belated;
Here, Neolithic farmers brought the seeds to rise.
They penetrated the landscape's celebrated
Cultivated grounds of buckwheat and rye

Pinnacles do reflect through holes so high.
Those ancestors here believed blessed.
When the time came for solstice sunrise
Their chambers then danced illuminated.

But December twenty-first makes sunrise,
Bright light awakening above their heads.
No doubt, strangers do cheerfully advise
Of the power in agriculture's bed.

Rocks therein were by hands carefully laid
With their messages for many generations' eyes.
Is change better for days so sacred?
A light piercing through my heart reveals flight
In pure soul streams.

appreciationcreationdecemberirelandupliftingquatrain

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