Tony Funderburk

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OK, you’ll enjoy this story much more if you use your best Irish or Scottish accent as you read. Even if you read it to yourself and you don’t read it out loud. You’re already doin’ it. Aren’t ya? Yeah, the way that power of suggestion works is a mystical phenomenon.

And speakin’ of a mystical phenomenon.

Have you ever heard of the Blue Celtic Cloud?

Some say it’s not just a vapor. Not just part of the sky. And some will swear the Blue Celtic Cloud is even more than just a mystical phenomenon. They’ll swear it’s a living, shimmering “entity” that floats above the verdant highlands and rugged coastlines of Eire.

In fact, I heard a story about it. And I’ll share the story with you now. Word for word.

(by the way, your accent is delightful)

Anyway…

Rhiannon, a young druidess, was the guardian of the aforementioned Blue Celtic Cloud. She had inherited this sacred duty from her grandmother, Maeve. And Maeve had whispered tales of the cloud’s power into Rhiannon’s ears ever since she was a child.

Maeve told her the Blue Celtic Cloud was no ordinary puff of vapor. Not at all. Because it contained the dreams and hopes of the Celtic people. And it could transform those dreams and hopes into healing rain to nourish the earth and all who with open hearts to music.

And one crisp morning, during the last few days of Spring, as a mist kissed the heather-covered hills, Rhiannon felt a drop of water on her forehead. The Blue Celtic Cloud was swirling with a luminous energy. Even as the rest of the world was quiet and still.

Emerald greens, rich purples, and sunlit golds shined from within.

So, Rhiannon chanted ancient incantations she learned from her grandmother. And the Blue Celtic Cloud descended and surrounded her in a soft, glowing mist.

A gentle rain began to fall. But the strange thing about it was that Rhiannon didn’t get wet. Because the rain fell directly into her heart. Or at least it felt that way. And she could also feel the dreams and hopes of the Celtic people as beautiful music also found its way to her heart. And, without even realizing it, the song made her smile.

It sure was a whimsical, wonderful mystical phenomenon. But sadly, Rhiannon had no one to share the song with. So, she sang it to the Blue Celtic Cloud. And she asked the Cloud to send it to someone, someday, some way, who could and would pass it on to others.

And the Blue Celtic Cloud promised to do just as she asked.

Finally, hundreds of years later, the Cloud found an unsuspecting, but willing, songwriter to write down the words and compose the song.

And that’s how the ninth song on my Lullabye Bye collection of lullaby songs for kids came about. Cross my heart and hope to fly.