Since 2022, when I circumambulated the Poulnabrone Dolmen on the windswept Burren of County Clare, Ireland, I knew a seed had been planted in the marrow of my bones. The cloachan huts and ring forts and ancient yew trees and Tau crosses and ogham engraved living stones all sang awake something that had thrummed silently in the iron of my blood. A song that flowed like a river through all things, pulsing and effervescing as it coiled around and through the living breath of the