“Go maith le Chaile.”

Listen to “Call to the Ancestors” performed by Jeff Stockton:

“Oh my Ancestors calling to me
from the Forest deep and dark and green
To stand upon the Bones of the Earth
To stand beneath the Song of the Stars
That I may run with the fleet of foot
That I may rise with the flight of wings
That I may swim with silvering fin
That I can sing with the wind in the boughs
Oh my Ancestors come and sing your songs to me
Oh my Ancestors come and sing your songs to me
Oh my Ancestors come and hear my songs”

Welcome to our Hearth

Sagh’ic-Tire Dhream (sar-jeek teeray thrarm), sometimes called the Wolven Path is an Animist Warrior Tradition.

Though we speak of ‘wolf’ the direct translation is more akin to ‘wild dog/hound beast’, which leads to an assumption that our ancestors knew of some older canine beast we may have forgotten. Our cosmological stories speak of the dog spirit as one who comes of free will to be loyal companion, whilst the two legged (humans) remember how to find their way home.

And yet upon that journey home Aithar Aodh; Father of the Fires, calls and gathers around his bright, warm, shining in the darkness, flame, That we, weary, lost, seeking company or a good story, can find a safe and welcoming place of blessing to share some great adventurous tale with warm honeyed cake and wine.

The Hearth is both the beacon of dreams and the heart home. Amongst the pages that follow we share our hearth with its stories, songs and dances; share the wisdom of our Ancestors and Ancient Ones.

We invite to come and warm yourselves by our sacred home fire.

Not all will agree or understand this tradition, its origins and revelations. We are comfortable in a song of many tunes and verses. We will agree that one song will call us home whoever or however it is sung; our own communities present this song and dance as coloured and interpreted by their own culture.

The Tribal language of sound and song evokes image and is ancient in its roots. Some might say Gaelic or Celtic, and indeed it has words that could be recognised by those communities. Yet it also includes sounds and words that appear Eurasian. The language though lost, is a song on the wind of breath, that conjures the emotions of actions; it is foremost a language of the heart.

For it is the song in our hearts that impassions the work of our hands in service to each others.

It is our hope that the stories on these pages will give inspiration and guidance for each personal path to The Forest.