Saturday, June 8, 2013

Ireland Is Calling To Me

To my spiritual home... Ireland, the land of beauty and passion, is calling me, to my spiritual home across the sea. It is the land of my ancestors and has been always dear to my heart. Walking in this land of great legends and beauty has been a dream of mine since I can remember, yet it is only in spirit that I wander along her shores and over the green hills. Where the tomorrows cares can wait till the joy of today is felt to its fullest. Is there one there who will sing to me to come to the hills or are the visions only in my dreams? I know not what waits for me there, near the green hills of Ireland... A little cottage I see, with a garden full of flowers, beautiful to behold -- tales of the ancient heroes of old, and where Celtic warriors fought and died for the land they so loved. There, on the Emerald Isle, the legends remain, legends of old that warm the heart and bring back memories of ancestors. Cu Chulain, Hound of Ulster, does his spirit still wander over the hills, or his sword still flash and clang so fast, echoing throughout the land... has his Fury found peace at last? The warrior queens, The Morrigan, Scathatch, and others must still watch over the souls of warriors of old that they carried away from the battle fields and gave eternal life to. Ancient castles, some in ruins, still remain as a reminder of those who lived, fought and died to make Ireland what it is today. Airmid, goddess of medicine and all healing arts to the Tuatha De Danaan, does she still heal those who need to be? Other gods and goddesses of ancient times, where do they dwell now -- are they only in the hearts of those who read about them and those who pen their great deeds -- do they still give their energies and magic to those with needs? Angus Mac Og, Angus of the Brugh, of the Tuatha De Danaan, to hear his golden harp that created incredibly sweet music for the ancient ones -- does the sweet music still linger and the sound drift throughout over the green hills? From his faery place on the banks of the Boyne, if he still rules over and protects lovers, creativity and beauty, then let me bask in the light of his powerful magic. The Faery Folk, short, tall, large, and small... they still wander back and forth between the edge of our reality and their own realms. I know this for sure, for the Leprechauns told me, it is well known -- you see now, they sometimes travel to other lands either in my dreams or their own. The Mountains of Mourne that flow down to the sea.. their beauty lingers on the mind -- and there on the shores is one waiting for me? Let me not be like a bird without wings, let me soar and have a heart that sings... let me be a child again and romp in the wild flowers and stroll on the shores of the sea and the Lakes of Killarney, alone or with one who loves, let my spirit soar and be free. Ireland truly is my spiritual home -- and this is my heart's story. **** © Content Copyright Phyllis Doyle Burns 2012 ****

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