Hail forever, poets, harpers, artists:
you of privilege who
by your dream-trance visions
have seen and heard
we recognize your right of demand;
sing and bring to us
the truths of existence
the extent of extent –
the time of distance,
the space of time.
You alone among us sense
the secrets from beyond
you alone have crossed boundaries
we may not cross.
Bring forth now to us your Death Tale
from the mists of invisibility.
As you have seen it,
so be it.
*meaning “sensation of things being not quite right but not being able to tell why.”
A long overdue poem inspired by a Druid Gaelic Dictionary I found online, prompted by the NaPoWriMo day 17 prompt which suggested creating a poem around words found in a specialized dictionary. Interestingly, there is a druidic term (achar feadha’s feadh achair, which the dictionary explains is “untranslatable”) for what quantum physics now tells us about gravity; that it is not a force of attraction but a curvature in the fabric of space-time.