keltic dreams

Reflections upon my keltic ancestry. The Kelts (or Celts) ranged from the British Isles, Spain, and France to the west and to Eurasia in the east. They were the main population of middle Europe until late Roman times. Audio version in the works, too.

here be the keltoi
the historian said
here be a vast and varied people
skilled in trade and in the working of metals

our heart is in the land
it is our charge
savage to the usurper
loyal friend to our kin

father begat son
brother begat clan
clan begat village
village begat the keltoi

rolling hills
deep forests, green
wide fields of heather
grasses tall, wind waved

mountains tall
icy blue
white capped and wind swept
dark masses we call home

the earth is our mother
but she did not give us birth
she feeds us, nourishes us
she gives unto us wisdom

you see,

we are a people
born out of time
ancient is our culture
timeless is our way

hairs of gold, copper, and brown
black as the night and white as snow
eyes of crystal, emerald, and blue
brown and amber, black and gray

lovers of color, let our plaide show
lovers of craft, hammer and chisel
clay, bronze, and iron sing to our heart
alive and vibrant, they sing beneath our hands

the mystic, the fairy
the wyrding way
a more ancient past calls us
ancient beyond the sacred grove

places of meeting
stones stacked high
places to listen
mother teaches wisdom

of dragons and fell mysteries
to our heroes did call
into the mysts, atop the great spire
into the dark hollow, depths of mother earth

the creator loved us
gave us feet to tread
a restless heart
a desire to see

restless feet planted
calls to our heart, “come see…”
wanderlust taken
no place to call ours

we walk this earth
tending its land
the land sings to us
we feel its heart

rain washed highlands
swift running rivers
deep, mist covered lowlands
salt sea breezes

towering pines
ancient oaks
rock hard maples
sturdy ashes

twilight deep forests
the boar and the bear
lions and eagles
harpies and gryphons

roaring seas
rolling hills
sky piercing mountains
heart of the earth ravines

the earth, she calls to me
return to my ancient home
beneath the skies of Gaellea
ever westward we roam

songs sung by bards
in the twilight of the night
of heroes, witches, and kings
of damsels and crones

our history plays
in the song of a key
no words are written
the story maker sings

of family and calling
plaide and voices say
i am kelt and clan
i am praeton, scot, eyre, welsh, belgae, frank

my people still call to me
beyond the great divide
do not forget your ancestors
dream of heroes and keltic pride

Reviews

[Red Raven]

There is an ancient touch in it my friend.
The sound add more touch. Its a good combination .
'father begat son
brother begat clan
clan begat village
village begat the keltoi '
- Amazing touch and rightfully said words.
Thanks for sharing it with me once again.

[Eric]

My ancestors hail from Scotland. And though I've not been myself, I can now say I have; through this poem. It feels like home.

Thanks for the journey.

[Robert Luna]

I love the imagery of this piece. It really brought beautiful detail to your image that you painted with your words in my mind's eye.
"we walk this earth
tending its land
the land sings to us
we feel its heart

rain washed highlands
swift running rivers
deep, mist covered lowlands
salt sea breezes

towering pines
ancient oaks
rock hard maples
sturdy ashes "

this part really made me feel a deeper connection to this piece. Not only seeing your words but feel the environment that was full life and beauty that you describe perfectly.

Great Job!!!

[Helen Woodward]

Kelt...Kilt...Great trip through Scotland Mr Braveheart!!! I have only seen Celtic spelled with a "C" Interesting to see it spelled this way, is Celtic Irish, and Keltic Scottish? I was always under the impression that they were both Celts...Your passion and love of homeland is evident here, you can't write a piece like this unless it's personal. Thanks for the trip on the high road, the rolling hills and ravines, dragons, mysteries and heroes....And Billy Connelly!

[Carole]

rolling hills
deep forests, green
wide fields of heather
grasses tall, wind waved

mountains tall
icy blue
white capped and wind swept
dark masses we call home

hairs of gold, copper, and brown
black as the night and white as snow
eyes of crystal, emerald, and blue
brown and amber, black and gray

lovers of color, let our plaits show
lovers of craft, hammer and chisel
clay, bronze, and iron sing to our heart
alive and vibrant, they sing beneath our hands

Incredible imagery, here Doc. You really hammered it. What a wonderful ancestry. Great write. :)

[Teresa Bridges]

Wonderful! I could almost imagine it! On my mother's side, her dad and my grandfather, we have Irish Ancestory (Foley, even have our own crest) . I have always been fascinated with all the things you talked about in this piece. I could almost hear the song, the ancient instruments playing...thanks for the read.