In Celtic Mythology
This world and the Otherworld
lie alongside each other
nested together
like the layers of driftwood
or of a seashell,
Their boundaries shifting and permeable,
The crossings simple acts for gods and birds
and mythical adventures for humankind.
We guard these entryways with charm and ritual
And shiver at their mention,
whether in fear or in longing.
The worlds are stitched together at the edges,
Dawn, dusk, the first day of winter,
or summer,
or a life,
The edge of the sea, a riverbank,
the horizon,
the mouth of a cave,
or of a grave.
The stitches held by charm and talisman,
and words of power.
And the Borderland of human boundaries…
More familiar,
yet infinitely more mysterious.
The simple boundary of personal space,
The edge of “I” and “other,”
constantly shifting
in size and shape and intensity.
The border of sound and music,
word and poetry,
utility and beauty.
And there is something delightful,
and cherished,
and divine,
In the human heart,
which takes the bone from
a dead bird,
and shapes it into a flute,
and breathes into it,
and creates
a bird’s song!
And in this sacred act
knows all there is to know
of crossing boundaries.
~ Hue Walker, “Boundaries”
Art: Joséphine Klerks
Josephine Klerks
@soulart.klerks
josephineklerks.com
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