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Ireland's political and cultural magazine
November 2020 63
I
N THESE reat times, we are iven a crucible
of profound rief. We see that the leadership
amon us has reached the threshold
without any merit, and we are weihted
heavily with a strain of doubt as to which
way we will o when all seems lost. In ancient
times, the poet’s role was to carry forward the
rief of the tribe by honourin that which was
invisible but was necessary to hold our noble
strains of truth. Our emotions held the sta of
honour and, when we stood at the abyss of
darkness, we did not forfeit our battle-cry to
move forward.
When a society is on the brink, it is towards
culture that it turns, often without the acknowl
-
edgement of the source of its creation, as its
hunger for a time is too large to look at the very
source of its virtue. In the great heritage of our
country, there lay a role within our civilisation
that held the great cauldron of truth; that of the
poet. The poets of the past called us to our as
-
semblies to tell our stories, reconcile our con-
flicts, heal our tragedies, and arbitrate our laws.
Poetry was a bridge into the unknown, but it
was also a place for that which was invisible to
become visible: our principles. The poets held
their own courts to challenge one another to
contest and to sing to what lay beyond so that
their knowledge, when imparted, was of the
highest virtue. These competitions were held
in the presence of a figure that has remained
unnamed and unknown for centuries. This fig
-
ure remained elusive, but worshipped, and for
many centuries became a banished and banned
figure, only to appear in song. Her name called,
united the people, and calmed the land.
CULTURE
The Poem in the Pandemic
By Ashley O’Neal
Seek the Aisling, Unite the people, Calm the land
The poets of the past called us to our
assemblies to tell our stories, reconcile our
conflicts, heal our tragedies, and arbitrate
our laws.
To the red wren I go,
In the nest of the swan
Of winter I place my heart.
I put the head of my ancestors
On the soft body of innocence
And I feel the great land’s sadness.
The tradition of the Aisling in poetry stands
out above the normal scope of expression in our
national character. For it was the Aisling that was
the unspoken name of Ireland, but more impor
-
tantly the great figure of Sovereignty realised.
Sovereignty was the An Spéir Bhean; she of the
elusive beauty and of the cosmos. From her, the
Brehon Laws lived and breathed, as wars and
starvation moved in our midst. Our language,
our national character was strained through her
hands and in her eyes, as she looked down into
the hearts of soldiers, kings, and beggars. Her
role to the poet was to advise him and guide
him to his highest language so that he might
give honourable counsel to the leaders within
the land. But time and tide have altered her,
and she again has transformed in these times
to her origins.
Our culture is at a crossroads, for we are suf
-
fering the great loss of a wise elder generation,
and their disappearance from our lives will alter
the very fountions of not only our State but also
our national psyche. Without the backbone of
their wisdom, and the merit of their lives, we are
thrown into a prolonged autumn. The harvest of
our feelings lay fallow in the same fields that are
barren of inspiration
for the next generation, and so
we are uncertain of what action
to take, and to whom to turn as
a connection to a future that has
already arrived.
The doubt and fear that has
paraded its own song before us
is not a part of the future that is
ahead for us. Our imperfections
and our inner wisdom are all we
have to serve one another. The
element of danger has come
upon us by way of fear, and that
state of being is where Sover
-
eignty meets the ordinary to act
out righteousness.
Brehon Law acted as a fulcrum
in our society, not as a regime but
as a living force within nature holding the divine
continuum in life. The laws were bound by the
innate goodness within us, which was enough
to uphold a society and also garner hope dur
-
ing all times in our growth as a civilisation. The
gentle and vulnerable aspects of our natures
was our very stance to all life, and that held
us towards what lay beyond our reach, and we
were happy and in joy.
This way of being has continued to inspire not
only leaders around the world throughout his
-
tory, but has also bound an invisible contract in
our humanity that we are of the land and that
our stewardship to the great principles of life
and nature are enough for us to walk as free to
-
wards a continual dawn. Sometimes, the only
poem we can hear when there is darkness is the
lone bird that sings in the night, for it is she that
knows of the light that always returns.
Ashley O’Neal is a poet, artist, and philoso-
pher who lives in the Gaeltacht area of Bally-
vourney. She was the winner of the 2014Michael
Hartnett Original Poem Award, 2018 Kanturk
Poetry Prize, and has been shortlisted for the
2020Shine Strong Poetry Award.
www.thewrenisenear.com
