Tir na nÓg

Freight train
whistles east

following tracks
of endless forest

forgotten fairy groves
of sacred magic

winding streams
where wood nymphs

watched us build forts
from standing stones

ancient ways
of knowing

divining meaning
in druidic tree roots

tales of Niamh and Oisin
chanted in dark meadows

as progress pillages
the green medicine

feeding spirit animals
hungry to be wild again

before oil was discovered
and mermaids would sing

in the waters of Tir na nÓg
still ringing as the sun sets

on the fountain of our youth
we listen to the wind

the secret rhythm
of a deerskin drum

calling from a secret
language of dreams

By Bradley McIlwain

standing stones, green grass, sheep, houses

Bradley McIlwain lives in Ontario, Canada where he is inspired by songs in nature, and examining our relationships within it. Bradley graduated from the University of Toronto’s iSchool, where he received his M.I. in Library and Information Science. Bradley is the editor of Buried Horror, a space for fresh voices in horror, speculative fiction, and poetry. His micro-chapbook, Holding On, can be enjoyed online as a free download at the Origami Poems Project. Bradley’s latest collection of poems, Elementals (IOWI, 2015) is now available on Amazon and Indigo.

Photo by Ron Harton

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