Tenh – thunder
Kʷós hreg stréyg-e gʷelh? – What quells the striking rain?
Dóru – oak/tree
Deywós – worshipped being/god
The Lessons of Aisus the Good
You came crashing, a comet from infinite cosmos
Letting Leptoceratops the horned-face linger, almost
Kindling knowledge-keeping amid your kin
As we tame the tropics to take within
Condors, cuckoos, bristlecone, chives
You look on as we live a thousand lives
Step and slither, we hunt for you snakes
Until our seeking staggers and heaven shakes–
You tell us tales in tumultuous swell,
As we ask for answers once and again:
Gift us genius— kʷós hreg stréyg-e gʷelh?
Thus wind awakens the wisest of men.
You soared here straight from the sky
We fruitfully found you in foliage so high
Leaves long-lived as the land turns dark,
You made for us maps of marbled bark
Tossing troves of acorn treasure
As we carefully carry to crush and measure
Mentions of mushrooms to master trance,
And blackened barley which brings us dance.
This teeming tree towers like no other
Bright berried branches, bold yet fickle
We purge perilous poison from one another,
Gratefully granting you the golden sickle.
We sculpt you statues standing strong
So to errant eyes, your essence lives on
Ensuring the effects of equal exchange,
As we cull the cranes and seasons change
Our dearest Druits deem you one of us
The selfless, the sacred— the speaker of Drus
Your gracious gaze in grieving groves of wood,
We’d claim your cherished courage if we could.
Sending sacrifice for splendid return,
We hang our heads, and hack across
With bullish blows, as bodies burn
And marrow mingles with mourning moss.
We’ve seen your skies ever since the sea,
Taken with tremendous thoughts, we trembled free
Aeons past pulled Pangea to parts
Yet sapience stayed safely in our hearts
Patient procession, our Sun persists
The Light of Leo to loosen icy drifts
Once we wondered what waited in the snow—
Until your voice rang vast and virtuous, ‘that, I know’.
By your blessing the stars are born
As nebulae flower in furious fuss
In many millennia, they will make the morn
With numerous and noble names, your legend thus.
The name Aisus (also known as Esus) may be rooted in the Indo-European *eis– meaning ‘well-being, passion’.
Miranda Green states in A Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend, “the word ‘Esus’ is not so much a name as a title, meaning ‘Lord’ or ‘Good Master’.”
A name to call him in English was whispered to me, as I began to reach Awen and put together Proto-Indo-European words for this dedication to Aisus. This is so I can reach the even older energies of the deuoi, which is why I keep it in even if I’m really bad with languages.
Aisus the Good.
Perhaps long ago a great teacher walked the earth, or sent messages to priests from the towering oaks. His teachings so wonderful, he embodied goodness- the sacred fire that is knowledge.