Summer Solstice

Reflections on a solstice pilgrimage from the Blackstairs Mountains to the Hill of Tara to the Lakelands of Cavan

Grianstad — the birds stopped the sun — and all became illuminated, gold, white and green — on my way, I sat in a field of wild flowers and dreamed — was shocked, even as I drove the motorway I could still feel the fairies in the hawthorn trees — drove past a ring fort in a field, minding its own — and here we mind our own — we take care of our language — we sing songs and stories from fadó, fadó — well grooved tracks that meander but hold meaning — we mind our own — we make cups of tea, we share all we’ve got around in a circle, we walk each other home —

I’m shocked by this country — its beauty is almost too beautiful for me —her magic too magic — almost — and after years away pretending I was over her, she welcomes me back like yesterday — for I am her daughter and will always be — also just a citizen of earth, a roving cell in the body of humanity — but this land claimed me —

And I’m shocked — I see us waking up but have we awoken our pussies and cocks? Somewhat — it’s coming up from the land — just go stand in a forest or on a sacred hill and feel your pelvis fill with blood — this is earth flooding you — reclaim this eros as the expression of the divine through you —

I’m shocked by this country — how we lay waste on the banks of the sacred rivers, life-givers, on the paths of our towns — there’s fucking litter everywhere — an expression of our carelessness and inner wasteland, the only way I think it’s possible to throw something on the living ground is as a cry for help —

I’m shocked by what the women here have had to endure — ashamed of their bodies, their voices, their sexual power — and I’m shocked that around me ALL I SEE IS POWER — a network of witches tending to the holy wells — standing in a way that they barely recognize themselves — this is happening now,

we unclog the wells; men’s waters flow — we’re talking about mental health, needing more than talk — but I can see us walking the walk — I see three brothers hold each other in their grief —and stay near each other through darkest night — hold the gaze, this is not too much, this is all of us

the burning heart of earth is us —

I’m shocked — how we lay waste to our soul shine — drown our dreams in whiskey and wine so we dull out the bell of the birdsong — the melody of which would send us skyward — we drown the hum of the drum that would waken the sleeping dragon — this land has a power that you and I couldn’t handle, we’d need a whole army — but we’re neutral — mild in our resolve, mild-tempered, mild-weathered, not bothered, stay central

is that true? I need to be careful what I’m believing. What’s coming, I can feel, giants marching at dusk, into the night, carrying the darkness with us into the dawn — before, we always put spirit at the center — we built our tombs under the cosmic swan that became a black hole — ever inching towards truth — everyone knew — and we know too.

I’m shocked by how much we’ve suffered, and how much suffering we’ve caused,

and I’m shocked by how much we haven’t —

we have a native spirituality that can never be colonized — forgotten yes, but never taken — we’re not victims of some past, but rather of a history — a story — a story that’s been wrung dry by now — and what do we choose to believe — because everywhere I look I see us coming home — there is no grand oppressor — there’s only humanity, forgetting itself

and remembering itself — all around I see us remembering ourselves, returning to the land, returning to the rivers, the mountains, the oceans, the woods, closing our eyes, going in, going down, going outside, planting gardens, looking underneath the dusty rug of generations, speaking about trauma, speaking about collective trauma — pulling forward a future that is not our ancient past — reclaiming something that was never really lost —

I sound the note to awaken the wild ones, bloodied —

and I reckon any one heart could send a wave out that would wake up a whole nation over night — not to some belief system but to a fundamental gnosis that all is connected, and all is well, and we are Sovereign Beings who bow only to Love itself

Make waves. Wake up. We’re living on Talamh na Gcroí, Land of Hearts.