May the light of sound guide me,
May the sound of light surround me,
May sacred sound come through me
for the harmony of all.
- Prayer to Shamael, Angel of Sacred Song

Song to Bridget (Gabhaim Molta Brighde)
A hymn from the 7th century in praise of Bridget - saint and goddess, healer and patron of poets & smiths.
To this day she represents the sacred female principle in Ireland.

Gabhaim Molta Brighde, Ionmhain í le hÉirinn,
Ionmhain le gach tír í, Molaimís go léir í.

Lóchrann geal na Laighneach
´Soilsiú ´feadh na tíre,
Ceann ar Ógaibh Éireann,
Ceann na mban ar míne.

Tig an geimhreadh dian dubh,
´gearradh lena ghéire,
Ach ar Lá ´le Brighde gar dúinn Earrach Éireann.

Translation
I give praise to Bridget, Beloved of Ireland is she,
Beloved of every land, All give praise to her!

Bright light of Leinster
Burning throughout the land,
Head of the youth of Ireland,
Head of women for her gentleness.

The dark severe winter comes,
Cutting with its sharpness,
But on St. Bridget's day the Irish spring is close to us.

Mary vocals, keyboards; Barry cello
trad. Irish arr: Mary McLaughlin; (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing / Gourd Music 2004 / BMI

The Weaver
Oh what stories we spin in our heads... inspired by the wonderful book Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley.

She sits all alone in her tower,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
Refusing to go out the door,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
Weaving tales of pain and fear,
weaving paths of loss and tears,
Weaving her vision year after year,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.

Sometimes, I know, she looks aside,
as she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
She looks down from on high,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
Weaving dreams that tear up the night,
weaving lies just for spite,
Weaving the tapestry of your life,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.

You had best ignore her call,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
She's so happy to see you fall,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
Weaving tricks that trip you up,
weaving misery for fun,
Weaving ends before you've begun,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.

So don't you let her pull you into
her weaving, weaving, weaving.
Just walk away as she begins
her weaving, weaving, weaving.
She'll say no when yes is right,
she'll say you can't when you just might,
She'll say stop when you need to try,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.

But if you can find out her name
as she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
You can play her at her own game,
she's weaving, weaving, weaving.
Weaving soon where she weaves late,
weaving love where she weaves hate,
Weaving hope where she weaves despair,
just get weaving weaving weaving.

Mary vocals; Radim mandolin; Robin guitar, bass guitar; Heidrun percussion
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Crystal Shoe
"Come and dance" he said. "I don't dance" she said.
"Come and dance" he said. "I can't dance" she said.
"Come and dance" he said. "Why should I dance?" she said.
"Come and dance" he said.
"Will you always dance with me?" she said, the tears glistening in her eyes.

She didn't sleep last night and neither did you,
For she left her fragile heart inside a crystal shoe,
And as you raised it high and with it you ran,
Did you know her fragile heart
was in the palm of your hand?

In her gorgeous silks and jewels she had you enthralled,
The only one you'd eyes for was this beauty of the ball,
But her glamour fell away, as the spell withdrew
And all that there was left was her crystal shoe.

For the clock it had struck once and the clock it had struck twice,
It was then that she remembered the pumpkin and the mice,
And the clock it struck again and suddenly she knew
That the hope of her true love lay in a crystal shoe.

Then you set off on your quest
not knowing where she'd be,
The only thing to guide you
was the light of true love's dream,
But then you saw it clear as that dream came true,
So much more to Cinderella than a crystal shoe.

Mary vocals; Radim pennywhistle, bowed & hammered mandolins, guitar; Irish bouzouki; Barry cellos;
Heidrun, percussion words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Light of the Darkness
Without the dark how can there be light? Freedom is in understanding that all things are in
balance and treading that thin line - a paradox in itself.

I've been to the darkness, did I see you there?
Did I touch your hand, did you soothe my fear?
Ah, don't be afraid of the darkness where we meet
It's the place where our souls can go free.

Angel wings behind me, carry me there,
Weaving through dimensions of time and space,
And you are there, your arms are open wide
And all of the pain subsides.

Angel breath behind me, low in my ear,
Whispered mysteries that no human should hear,
But somewhere your smile sparkles among the stars
I'll go to the darkness where you are.

I'll go to the darkness, will I meet you there?
Will I touch your hand, will you soothe my fear?
And I won't be afraid of the darkness where we meet
It's the place where our souls can go free,
They can go free, go free, go free
Go (Ooo, the light of the darkness) free...

Mary vocals, keyboards; Radim mandolin; Robin guitar; Heidrun percussion
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Sleeping Beauty
The awakening can come at any time - a glance, the brush of a hand, a conversation, a song - when it comes, the world will never look the same again.

I was fast asleep, seemed like a hundred years.
The castle walls were steep, and brambles had appeared.
Then there you were, like some courtly knight of old,
Above your head you raised your radiant sword,

chorus
And took me down, down, down into your eyes,
You took me down, down, melted all the ice.
Down, down, down into your eyes,
You took me down, down, brought me back to life.

Deep inside my room, didn't know I could be found,
I hadn't bet on you and the walls came crashing down,
For there you were, like the sun after the snow,
Warmest tones of amber and of gold.

Must the story end, is that the only way?
Or can it go around, starting new each day?
For there you were, like a thunderous crashing wave,
That swept me up then set me down again.

Mary vocals, keyboards; Radim mandolin, pennywhistles, low whistles, slide whistle;
Robin guitars words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

I Lit a Candle
To light a candle is a sacred act, as the light symbolizes truth and hope - what better way to sanctify a new love of any kind?

I lit a candle for this love,
I lit it for this bright shining love,
And I asked the powers around and above,
To give blessings to this new love.

A baby's smile, the wisdom of age,
A guile-less child who's always amazed,
A mother's cry, the joy and the pain,
All bring blessings to a new love.

In your eyes I saw my new way,
I realized it's never too late,
Love knows no time and love knows all space
And brings blessings to a new love.

A joyful smile that lit up your face,
I felt your warmth and bathed in your grace,
The darkest night is followed by day
And gives blessings to a new love.

Mary vocals; Radim mandolin; Robin guitar; Barry cello
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

In Time
The first line may seem banal - unless you knew this song was written in Ireland...

The sky looks so blue today, not a hint of cold or rain,
But I know that your clouds are gray,
how I wish I could blow them away.

chorus
And time will give you time to heal from the wounds I never wanted to give,
In time you may have time to understand
I had to do what I did.

Sometimes we sacrifice the very things that we hold high,
Not daring to look behind, choices never cut and dried.

There's nothing I can do or say to help ease the weight of your pain,
All I can do is hope and pray that one day you'll know love again.

And time will give you time,
in time you may have time...

Mary vocals; Radim mandolin, pennywhistle; Robin guitars; Heidrun percussion
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

The Mermaid (An Mhaighdean Mhara)
Scotland and Ireland are rife with legends of the "silkies" or seal people. Unable to be complete in either form, the silkie walks the path between human and seal. This song is one of the oldest in the Irish tradition and shows the dilemma of a silkie who longs to be with her human children but is bound to the River Erne.

Is cosúil gur mheath tú nó gur thréig tú an greann,
Tá an sneachta go frasach fá bhéal na n-áitheann´
Do chúl buí daite ´s do bhéilín sámh
Siúd chugaibh Maerí Chinidh ´s í ´ndiaidh ´n Éirne ´shnámh.

"A Mháithrín mhilis," dúirt Máire Bhán,
"Fá bhruach a' chladaigh ´s fá bhéal na trá,
Is maighdean mhara mo mháithrín ard."
Siúd chugaibh Maerí Chinidh ´s í ´ndiaidh ´n Éirne ´shnámh.

"Tá mé tuirseach agus beidh go lá,
Mo Mháire bhruinngheal ´s mo Phádraig bán,
Ar bharr na dtonnta ´s fá bhéal´ na trá,"
Siúd chugaibh Maerí Chinidh ´sí ´ndiaidh ´n Éirne ´shnámh.

Translation:
It's likely you have deteriorated
Or that you have abandoned fun.
The snow is falling heavily on the mouth of the ford.
Your yellow colored back and your quiet little mouth,
Here is Mary Keeney
She's just after swimming the Erne.

"Oh mother of mine," said fair Mary,
"Under the bank of the stony beach
And under the mouth of the sandy beach,
My noble mother is a mermaid (silkie),"
Here is Mary Keeney
She's just after swimming the Erne.

"I am tired and I will be until the day,
My bright breasted Mary, and my fair Patrick,"
On top of the waves
And under the mouth of the sandy beach,
Here is Mary Keeney
She's just after swimming the Erne

Mary vocals; Radim low whistle; Robin guitar, cittern; Barry cello
trad. Irish: arr. M. McLaughlin; (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Tangling Seaweed
This song is based on the legend surrounding Loch Finn in Donegal, Ireland. When Fionnghual tried to rescue her brother from the Lake she kept following what she believed to be the sound of his cry for help - but she was really following the echo of his cry as it bounced off the surrounding mountains. Gradually the weeds pulled her down. To this day no local will swim in the lake as it is believed she is still there, trying to find her brother...
"Ochone, Ochone" means "alas, alas" and is a caoin (keen) or crying song, to mourn the dead.

From dawn to dawn I search for you,
Peering through this briny deep.
My pledge I will uphold to you,
I'll free my feet of this tangling seaweed.
Ochone, Ochone

I can hear your pleading call,
First it's distant, then it's near.
I call back "Oh just hold on,"
I'll free my arms of this tangling seaweed.
Ochone, Ochone

Where are you my dearest dear?
In your hour of greatest need,
I have come to be with you,
I'll free my hair of this tangling seaweed.
Ochone, Ochone

Every day I call to you,
Sometimes others hear our plea.
They join me in my search for you,
They join me in this tangling seaweed.
Ochone, Ochone

Mary vocals, keyboards; Neal dulcimer; Robin guitar, bass; Heidrun percussion
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Daoine nDia (Deenah Neeah)
In Irish the phrase "Daoine nDia" (the people of God) is used to refer to people with Down's Syndrome. I wrote this song for a seven year old boy from India whom I was privileged to teach while living in England. He taught me much more than I taught him!

Me and my silent companion
Walking through the streets of London,
Me from the West, he from the East
Me full grown, he but seven years old.

When I'm lost and don't know the way
I turn to him, hear myself say,
"Can you please show me the road?
You've been here so many times before."

chorus
Daoine nDia, I salute you,
Daoine nDia, I laugh with you,
Daoine nDia, I thank you,
Daoine nDia, I love you.

Sometimes I feel like a dancing clown,
Emotions loose, pirouetting around,
Wearing my heart like a medal I've won,
Always reaching for something just beyond me.

You don't give me any answers
But you make me ask some questions,
Who's the teacher? Who is learning?
Who's satisfied, who's always yearning for more?

Mary vocals; Radim mandolin; Robin guitar, bass; Barry tabla; Heidrun hand percussion
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Trail of Tears
During the "Great Famine"of the 1840's in Ireland, a light shone from the most unexpected quarter. A tribe of Choctaw Indians in Oklahoma heard about the Irish disaster and decided to help. Despite the fact that the tribe was still reeling from the terrible "trail of tears" (an enforced 500-mile march from their homelands to be resettled), their humanity was so great that they reached out to the starving Irish and collected $760 - a massive sum of money for that time - and sent it to Ireland. Such compassion is a lesson for all of us. I learned about this story from a book called The Long March by Marie-Louise Fitzpatrick.

We're closing the ring, working together,
Facing our past is building our future,
Lay down the ghosts that we've carried for years
On our trail of tears.

I listen to you, I'm hearing my story,
Seems like from birth it's carved in our memory,
I honor you for surviving this far
And mostly for sharing your trail of tears.

I want to thank you for your compassion,
I want to bless you for your vision,
I want to join you in your caring,
But mostly for sharing your trail of tears.

Mary vocals; Radim pennywhistle, Native American flute; Robin guitar, bass; Heidrun percussion
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Angels
Many years ago I saw a sticker saying "angels must walk before they can fly." I don't know who coined the phrase but it struck me as such a wonderful concept that I filed it away in my head. I wrote this song for my brother Anthony - angels come in many disguises...

The sun shone for you on th#is day of days,
No one could know it would be your day,
And some of us wept while others prayed,
We're all learning to be angels.

chorus
For angels must walk before they can fly,
And angels must learn to laugh and to cry,
The angels are here, they're among you and I,
We're all learning to be angels.

I don't know what my life will be like from now on,
There's an empty space - I can't fill that void,
Most days it's hard to make sense of it all,
But then that's the school for angels.

So it's time to take stock, to look around,
It's time to forgive, time to move on,
It's time to give thanks for what joy we have found,
In this training school for angels.

Mary vocals; Radim pennywhistles; Robin guitars; Barry cello
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

Deep Peace
This song is based on an ancient Gaelic prayer, some say a rune, and is dedicated to my dear friend Pauline Rendell who modeled how to live and die well - deep peace to you, my friend.

Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars.
Deep peace of the golden sun to you,
Deep peace of the silver moon.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you,
May peace be with you soon.
May peace be with you, peace be with you,
peace be with you soon.

Deep peace of the whispering trees to you,
Deep peace of the reddest rose.
Deep peace of the greenest grass to you,
Deep peace of the wind that blows.
Deep peace of the mountains high to you,
Deep peace of the darkest cave.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you,
May peace be in your name.
May peace be in your, peace be in your,
peace be in your name.

Deep peace of the greyest stones to you,
Deep peace of the glistening dew.
Deep peace of the ripest corn to you,
Deep peace of the sky so blue.
Deep peace of the coming dawn to you,
Deep peace of the setting sun.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you,
May you and peace be as one.
May you and peace be, you and peace be, you and peace be as one.
May you and peace be, you and peace be, you and peace be as one.

Mary vocals; Radim bass recorder, bamboo flute (bansuri); Robin guitar
words & music Mary McLaughlin, (c) Mary T. McLaughlin Publishing 2004 / BMI

The musicians:
Mary McLaughlin, originally from Northern Ireland, has been featured on many internationally-distributed CDs including "Celtic Voices" on the Narada label and "Celtic Requiem" on the Windham Hill (BMG) label. She sang the song "A Flower on the Sea," composed by Michael Whalen, for the soundtrack of the PBS special "Lost Liners" in 2000. Mary plays Korg T3 and X1000 keyboards.

Radim Zenkl, originally from the Czech Republic, is a US Mandolin Champion, and plays mandolin, flutes, guitar, and bouzouki on this recording. He thanks Capek and Arrow mandolins, Breedlove guitars, Susato and Copeland pennywhistles, High Spirits flutes and D'Addario strings.

Robin Bullock is an award-winning multi-instrumentalist. Robin plays bass, a 2002 Taylor 710LTD guitar and a 1987 Stefan Sobell cittern, and uses GHS Strings on this recording.

Barry Phillips plays cello and tabla. Barry tours with Ravi Shankar, and recently performed at the George Harrison Memorial Concert in London. His alter ego "Woody" Phillips is a recording star in his own right.

Heidrun Hoffman-Rushworth originally from Germany, is an internationally-known percussionist, and plays the Korean tschanggo and buk drum, taiko, surdo, bell and rattles (caxixi and maracas) on this recording.

Neal Hellman is a nationally acclaimed performer, author of many books on the mountain dulcimer, and has contributed recordings to Ken Burns' films. He plays 6-string dulcimer on this recording. Neal is also president of the Gourd Music label.