Tonight I thought it was about time to pull a new Ogham fid, to set the tone for the next few days of offerings. I pulled Muin, the fid I associate with communication, words, music.
So then I suddenly find myself singing. I grab my bodhran, and out come both tune and words, in several verses:
Come, blessed Ladies, and gather around
As I sing a story without word or sound,
The world recreated as it resounds,
A song from the sea and the sky and the ground.
There’s even a penny whistle accompaniment! There’s more of it to come, about speaking the lost stories of the unheard, but I need to sit down and work with the snatches of lines I got while playing.
Well, I did say that my shrines were there to tell my deities’ stories.
“Open your mouth and speak…” For silence is the gateway of oppression, but stories break down the walls.
Or, as Bonhoeffer put it (much better than me): Silence in the face of evil is itself evil. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, 1906–1945