At the edge of this night the Great Swan dips,
Grazing my eyes with her feathery tips,
Then Caer Ibormeith unleashes her song,
It settles upon me, draws me along,
She and her Aengus from Bruigh na Boinne’s walls,
Melding their voices as night gently falls,
Stirring prophetic dreams – conciousness thins,
I shift into sleep, the magick begins.