Personal Note: There are a few occasions throughout each year, that what we call ‘the Veil’ grows thin. This is in regards to Irish folklore and this is a veil between the land of what we see and that which we cannot see. For when that grows thin, activity of the supernatural becomes much more prominent.
Introduction to When the Veil Grows Soft
There is a quiet truth we carry as Irish people: our land has always had its own stories, long before any of us walked its paths. For generations tales of the ‘hidden ones’ ,of thin times between the worlds, have been woven into our days — whispered around hearths, remembered on old roads, passed down as part of who we are.
I write this as a man of faith, a born-again Christian who anchorshis life in what he believes. I do not seek to glorify what is not of God, nor do I claim to know where the line lines between legend and truth. But I know this: folklore is the inherritance of our people. It shaped how our ancestors saw the world – how they walked gently on the earth, how they respected what they did not understand, how they held wonder close to their hearts. To set it aside would be to turn away from the very soil that made me.
This poem is not an endorsement, nor a debate. It is simply a poet walking his native land, acknowledging all that lives in its stones and shadows as part of our identity, while walking our own road with reverence and grace. When the veil grown soft, I do not bow — I pause. I remember. And I give respect to the place I call home.
If not for anything else, please enjoy this poem for the artwork this poem has become.
When the Veil Grows Soft
The sun dips low to kiss the western tide,
As hills hold light that will not stay inside,
The veil grows thin ‘twixt our world and theirs,
Where quiet feet move, unhurried by time.
A stone shifts just where I would set my boot,
A branch bends low where no tree took root,
My cap spins off on a breath of air —
Soft laughter echoes, though no one stands there.
Síulann siad,
Where the boreen dips low,
On old paths only they seem to know.
They tuck my stick deep in fern and in frond,
Then place it where my eyes would see.
Tá siad anseo —
They twist the briar, they ruffle the gorse,
They run like wind on their quiet course,
A shadow moves, then slips from sight.
They do not mean to trip or tease too hard,
Just make you pause, keep your eyes on guard,
To see the land is not for us alone.
It holds old voices, and every stone.
I speak them soft: Go n-éirí an t-ádh libh,
Walk your road, and I will walk with thee.
When the moon climbs high and the dark grows deep,
They slip back home while the world does sleep —
But I walk gentle, with care and grace,
I tip my head, and let the old road be. .
.
“Ancient ones?” I whisper.
Copyright © 2026 Pat Fitzgerald
All Rights Reserved
The Pronunciation Guide (Sounds-Like)
Below are Pronouncuation Guides to Irish Words used in this Poem and explainations..
- Síulann siad
- Sounds like: SHOO-lun sheed
- Meaning: They walk.
- Boreen
- Sounds like: bohr-EEN
- Meaning: A narrow, rural country lane (from the Irish bóithrín).
- Tá siad anseo
- Sounds like: TAW sheed un-SHUH
- Meaning: They are here.
- Go n-éirí an t-ádh libh
- Sounds like: guh NYREE un TAW liv
- Meaning: May luck rise with you (A blessing wished to a group).
Thank you for joining me on this journey of writing and discovery. Poetry, for me, is a continuous learning process. A way of finding my own voice and writing style and exploring the beauty of words.
I also write from the heart and never with the intention to cause offence. However, if anything I write ever causes discomfort, please know it is never my purpose. I am only human and occasionally typos or small errors may slip through; I do my best to correct them as soon as they are found.
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With Gratitude,
Pat Fitzgerald
patman4u.com 
Love this post, thank you for sharing. May luck rise with you!
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Thank you Renate
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