Where Do the
Sacred Fires Burn? The Sacred Fires burn on fairy knolls,
on craggy tors, in leafy glens,
kindled in the hearts of the magic
users, witch-folk and seers. Mayhap our vision is no longer clear,
looking upon cromlech, menhir,
caves and groves of initiation,
feeling instinctively the holiness
of the land permeated with magic,
without understanding why. We have lost touch with our mysticism,
the tenuous contact with realms unseen
severed by materialism. Have we abandoned the old gods, the Tuatha
De Danann? Or been left as
a changeling at Nature's breast,
the memory of Tir Tairngire
all but shriven from our being? We are educated, civilized. Never has the hand of any conqueror lain more
heavily upon the heart and spirit of a
people, than that of technology. What science had sought to rule,
now rules instead, our Balance
sacrificed to the gods of Progress. But we are merely asleep. In spite of our commercialism,
some place in our soul remains
uncorrupted still, awaiting the hour when
the deadening influence will be swept
clear of our psychic selves. In time, our spiritual bondage will end,
and we will become, as we were before,
true children of Arthur. And so, for now we dream, enchanted
like Merlyn in a cave near Carmarthen
with the sorceress Ninian;
until Arthur returns to break the spell
and the Sacred Fires blaze forth
once more. | 
