The Celts are known for having a poetic knowledge of the World. In honor of that, and their ultimate Mother, Danu, we present this poem in honor of Danu by the awesome Irish mystic A.E.

I am the tender voice calling "Away,"
Whispering between the beatings of the heart
And inaccessible in dewy eyes
I dwell, on all unkissed and lovely lips
Lingering between white breasts inviolate
And fleeting ever from the passionate touch
I shine afar, till men may not divine
Whether it is the stars or the beloved
They follow with rapt spirit
And I weave my spells at evening
Folding with dim caress
Aerial arms and twilight dropping hair
The lonely wanderer by wood or shore
Till, filled with some deep tenderness He yields
Feeling in dreams for the dear mother heart
He knew, ere he forsook the starry way
And clings there
Pillowed far above the smoke
And the dim murmur from the duns of men
I can enchant the trees and rock
And fill the dumb brown lips of earth with mystery
Make them reveal or hide the god
I breathe a deeper pity than all love
Myself
Mother of all
But without hands to heal
Too vast and vague, they know me not
But yet
I am the heartbreak over fallen things
The sudden gentleness that stays the blow
And I am in the kiss that foemen give
Pausing in battle
And in the tears that fall
Over the vanquished foe
And in the highest
Among the Danaan gods
I am the last council of mercy in their hearts
Where they mete justice from a thousand starry thrones.