Rónán Regan, July, 2013

Sitting here by fire or the true light of sun,

gathering to céilí, le chéile, to ramble, to meet

'tis like musical lottery literally, lilting in unison,

or bickering incoherent, busy as birds beaks

or sweetly still, the swell of chorus complete.

There’s been many's the lucky one,

chance encounter, juxtaposition

or quantum leap; teeming

turn prompting dulcet dancing feet.

Sitting at table with old friend,

new friends and even stranger still –

the disenfranchised or enchanted

and all the while conversing,

to spontaneous reason true;

allowing the vexed to vent and Éire's spirit renew.

From a personal stirring, a story springs,

that shall softly travel in a hum or whistle

and then return in heroic memory,

and perhaps further stoke a seminal song

or a sometime vitriolic verse

and then, once again, traverse

through village, valley, cross-road

or citadel;

to musically gather, for another turn or two.