Heapstown Cairn

Very much alive

untouched

laying in slumber

 

Energy builds

to be experienced

by those who

do not visit

with the intent to take

but rather

to share

in a moment

 

 

 

The Other Crowd are strong at Heapstown.  They're all around you, luring you into all the little nooks and crannies.  

Time seems to have no meaning.  What feels like just a few moments is actually 30 minutes.  What feels like 30 minutes is over an hour.  What seems like an hour is closer to three.  Everyone seems to have the same reaction.  They feel themselves fading into the Otherworld and go willingly.  There isn't any amount of time that is long enough and when we finally accept that it is indeed time to leave, we do so very slowly, pausing every few steps to take it all in.

I was pulled into a small grove, bathed in green.  I stood there, dumbstruck.  Uncertain what to say, I broke the rules.  

"Thank you."

I regretted it as soon as the words left my lips.  That is the number one thing you NEVER say to the Good Neighbors.  To thank them indicates an acknowledgement of debt and if there is one thing you do not want, it is to be indebted to them.

I searched in vain for something to say, some way to make it right.  I removed a piece of Labradorie from my pocket, placing it on a branch.  The intent was to photograph it in this beautiful setting.  The moss would be a gorgeous backdrop.

It remained there for only a second before tumbling to the ground.  this unintended gift, lost to me forever, but hopefully well-received.  

 

IN ORDER FOR AN OFFERING TO HAVE VALUE,

IT MUST BE A SACRIFICE.

 

With courage, fill my heart

Battle is your art

With courage fill our hearts

Queen Maeve

 

- from the album "Motherland" by Lori Llyn

http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/lorillyn

 

 Maeve's Mound - photo by Sky F.  https://skyaisling.wordpress.com/

 Maeve's Mound - photo by Sky F.  https://skyaisling.wordpress.com/

She stood on the hill, the mound in the distance.  Here, she was told the legend of Queen Maeve (Madb) and how she ruled Connacht.  Maeve's Sovereignty was not bestowed upon her.  She stood firmly in it, embraced it, lived and breathed it.  

She listened to the tale of the Battle of the Two Bulls and how (when it was over) the Brown Bull of Cooley carried the white bull, Finnbhennach throughout Ireland.  As pieces of Finnbhennach dropped to the ground, place names, landmarks, and monuments were created.  

The mythology and legends are so much more than stories.  They are alive.  You can walk the land and see where the battles took place, where marriages were consummated, where heroes were born and laid to rest.  Is this connection to the past what brings so many here, each on their own Quest to find their own connection?

We Saw a Vision

A hush fell over the Pilgrims as they entered the Garden of Remembrance.  A solemn but beautiful place, it was one of quiet reflection.  Her eye was immediately drawn to the large sculpture at the top of the stairs.  A nod to the Irish Legend, "The Children of Lir".   

   The pool guides your eye upward toward the sculpture.

 

The pool guides your eye upward toward the sculpture.

   "The Children of Lir" (Clann Lir / Leani Lir), who were the victims of their stepmother's jealously and as a result, were cursed to live as swans for 900 years.

 

"The Children of Lir" (Clann Lir / Leani Lir), who were the victims of their stepmother's jealously and as a result, were cursed to live as swans for 900 years.

The park is a memorial to all those who fought and died in the hopes of attaining Irish Freedom.  

   Inscribed on one of the walls is the poem "We Saw a Vision", written by Liam Mac Uistin in 1976.  This would not be the last time she wished she had learned Irish.

 

Inscribed on one of the walls is the poem "We Saw a Vision", written by Liam Mac Uistin in 1976.  This would not be the last time she wished she had learned Irish.

 

"In the darkness of despair we saw a vision,

We lit the light of hope and it was not extinguished.

In the desert of discouragement we saw a vision.

We planted the tree of valour and it blossomed.

In the winter of bondage we saw a vision

We melted the snow of lethargy and the river of resurrection flowed from it.

We sent our vision aswim like a swan on the river.  The vision became a reality.

Winter became summer.  Bondage became freedom and this we left to you as your inheritance.

O generations of freedom remember us, the generations of the vision."