If we were to travel from the wild, ruggedness of Capel Curig,
near the foothills of Yr Wyddfa,
that place of green, of open-space, of dragons, myth and power;
Myrddin’s lair.
If we were to travel to the busy-ness of Old London,
that place of the ancient river of the Celts,
of crowded streets, of neon lights, Druid-energy and oh-so many people,
the Voice can be heard.
If we were to pause,
wherever we are, just for one moment,
to revel in life that is happening around us, to us, in us, through us,
we would hear the Voice.
Distractions come,
and a distancing from all that is natural seems to happen.
But, only seemingly, so.
The Voice that spoke creation into being,
thunders in the wilderness, whispers in built-up places,
but speaks, still.
The Voice can be heard, if….
…if we have ears to hear.
If we would but listen to the music of our life,
our body would sway in time to the primal beat of times of old.
If we would but gaze at beauty around us,
our mind would laugh crazily with delight at the colours seen.
If we would but ponder, and feel deep within our soul
the love-song of the Friend,
then we would know the reason why we are here.
Become the duet.
That is fantastic! It echoes my feelings in reverse!
By the way are you the person offering Celtic names? I’ve been trying to email you if you are, because I would love to know mine!
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I’m pleased you liked the poem/article.
I am finding Celtic names for people, though the response is so good I may not be able to reply for 3-4 days. But, you’re more than welcome to email me at: tadhg@tadhg.cymru with details that I can work on, to find an appropriate name.
Meanwhile, many blessings, Tadhg
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