I reach into the wren’s nest and pull these sticks, each carved with an ogham character and cast them to the ground. They form a question - What value lies in reclaiming ancestral links to seek new paths to answers?
We trace the symbols in the dirt of a month of rainless days and call on the trees to tell us, each symbol a letter from the medieval Irish alphabet, a nod to bardic knowledge. When I recall the long history of humans, this wrote truths on stone, but now it can be thrown to whisper what is yet to come.
I reach into the wren’s nest and pull these sticks, each carved with an ogham character and cast them to the ground. They form a question - What value lies in reclaiming ancestral links to seek new paths to answers?
We trace the symbols in the dirt of a month of rainless days and call on the trees to tell us, each symbol a letter from the medieval Irish alphabet, a nod to bardic knowledge. When I recall the long history of humans, this wrote truths on stone, but now it can be thrown to whisper what is yet to come.
