The Chalice
Tonight the white waters will wash silently upon the sand in Galway Bay.
Tonight the ghouls, ghosts and goblins will rise as wispy mist above the peat.
Tonight the mysteries of Celtic lore shall echo throughout these ancient hills.
Tonight the standing stones of Carnach will rearrange their timeless pattern.
Tonight the extinct wild wolves will howl in the crystal forest of Tyrone.
Tonight the hooded Druid's words of priestly wisdom shall be heard by all.
Tonight the ears of cats and dogs will prick at soundless motion in the fields.
Tonight the wailing winds of Keltia will brush through your raven locks.
Tonight the spells of primitive dreams will unfold before your eyes.
Tonight the shadowy Eirenic moon will be your guiding light.
Tonight the constraints of time will be unshackled.
Tonight the measures of distance will dissolve.
Tonight the endless cup of love will overflow.
Tonight the covert icons of desire will show.
Tonight the written word will ignite.
Tonight the copious chalice
of creativity in
your mind
will charm,
challenge,
inspire and
foment your delivery.
Tonight you will distil the essence of reason.
Tonight you will drain this potent potion from its bounteous cup.
