whim.

whim.

on glan day
oh eudmhor gh’st
on wind doe haunt
on gales doe ride
cross’t o’er beinns
cross’t o’er sruth
as heart of t’land
as souls of t’earth
bound by past
t’and future’s know

note: so this came to me, in words in my head, to write this in somewhat gaelic. yes, that is strange as I really do not know my true lineage being adopted… but I don’t care or question things anymore when they pop into my head, I mean, hey, I am not a psycho I think, I just have a different input to the muse to amuse and paint my art with words, so here they are so, unfold… all thoughts are always welcome.