Welcome to The Wandering Gael!

You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve,” said Aslan. “And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth.

C. S. Lewis

About Me

Caedmon, The Wandering Gael, is a depressive castaway, loved by his wife and children, striving to live simply and softly.  He writes software for a living, but would much prefer to spend his days flirting with his wife, playing with his kids, reading with the birds in his flower gardens and writing with the faeries in his head.

Caedmon Knot Samhain Rotated For Year

The Christian Year

 

Easter

Within the blackness of the night His body lies at rest Alone within His catacomb, amidst the quiet chill His skin is pale and bled of life, no air’s within His chest He lies in state, forsook by God, within the lonely hill She weeps within the waning night, alone before the morn When death …

The Wheel of the Year

Autumn

She comes in whispers, glimmers dancing softly on the waltzing breeze in scented hues that sing a gleaming melody in crimson waves upon the floating arbor seas. Behind her train the vespers evensong of birds is raised and fades within the shrinking light that glows in soft and tender swells along the edge of night. …

Bealtaine

Bright flames leap high into the thawing azure skies beyond the growing, withered glow.  The final traces of the cold have fled into the warming ground and brighter hours saunter lazily on greening avenues in settled, turbulent arrangements, intertwining in an orgy of the senses’ union – Holy Dance. Fervor is imbued with love and …

Imbolc

As winter’s rage o’erwhelms the silent earth a whiff of life, a whisper, is exhaled beyond the grip of ice on rimy firths – A herald of the death of sorrow’s Hel. She strains and groans against the fading veil for in the twilight glow the prime is birthed between the knees of rolling mounds …

Lughnasadh

Before the birth of summer’s death there flows a northern hint of autumn’s doleful hymn upon the dancing streams of playful airs that whisper lullabies to root and grain, as verdant wine is sapped, a river blown into the season’s turning.  Mourning swims in swollen ranks as harvest’s bounty, fair fruition of the mother’s birthing …

Samhain

Naked watchers stand as silent, holy congregants – skeletal formations, planted stoic, tall, and still; calm sentinels in somber dress, heralds of the chill that comes in dead of night, with death’s silent chants. Amidst the boughs there blows a mistral, howling shrill cries of boiling blood, to freeze blood’s marrow and bones as fading …

Spring

Amidst the green is joy expelled into the air to play upon the holy breath that skips between the oak and yew in dance before the gods that deftly dress with human garb.  She spins, her skirt a swirl of leaf and shining petals shaped and fanned in subtle seas of glinting colored whorls that …

Summer

Golden streams of liquid light flow thick and hot through tepid seas forgot within the march parading on the grounds of time’s remorseless trot within the life of space.  A shrewd démarche, a haze lies thick amidst the sullen boughs weighed down by verdant arms made drunk by shining light.  A hush befalls the rotting …

Winter

In darkness lies midwinter’s lonely road beneath the bleak discriminating erne. He pads midst silent seas of snow and firn and stride upon the troglodytic wold. The sun grows shy before his slow advance, the moon tenaciously asserts her berth. Her glow illuminates the raven’s mirth and floods the season’s gelid, hoary manse. Amidst the …