Through the eyes of an eagle
I view this land.
Forty shades of green
from soft Irish rain
that removes the stain
of numerous battles.
I soar over Sliabh League
in Dun na nGall then
swoop above Glenveigh
where the sons of Tuan
king of the stags
now roam free.
I circle ancient forts
where Gaelic kings
were crowned.
No longer found in a land
decimated by retreating foes
then long enslaved by England.
Still the spirit of Eire is strong.
Drinking poteen until dawn
we celebrate the harvest
with dance and song at Samhain
along with the Tuatha De Danann.
Extolling the mighty Fionn Mac Cumhail.
Surviving all those who were cruel,
famine, seafaring foes and British rule.
Irish laughter rings loud.
As a people we are proud.
One day soon our green land
will be reclaimed
to be a nation once again.
Categories:
tuan, adventure, beautiful, celebration,
Form: Rhyme
Ravens chew on twigs while deep in thought,
Larks have three dots on their tongue,
Badgers are the keepers of the sacred stories,
Blackbird is the bird of both the gateway and forge.
Cernunnos is lord of the Underworld and wild animals,
Follow the white hind into the mystical forest.
As Tuan had lived as a stag, an eagle, and salmon,
Where the Tuatha de Danaan were the faery gods,
Living on Emerald Isle as the Sidhe, (shee)
Twenty trees are the number of the secreted Ogham,
And the wrens nest is the Druid's nest.
We priests must walk in both worlds,
In the world of form, and of force.
Awen to all... /|\
Categories:
tuan, inspirational, mystery, myth,
Form: Free verse