Aengus Og The God of Love

Aengus Og The God of Love

Aengus was a young god, and he had never been in love. He lived by the River Boyne,
where the mornings were pale and the air smelled of grass wet from dew.

One night he dreamed of a girl. She did not say much. She did not need to. He loved her the moment he saw her.

When he woke, she was gone. He tried to forget her. He walked the hills. He listened to music. He laughed with his people.

But every night she came back to him in sleep. And every morning he woke with his heart aching. This is their story.

By the bend of the Boyne where the long grasses grow,
Lived Aengus, golden and young.
He had laughter enough for a bright summer day,
And songs that were easily sung.

But one quiet night in the hush before dawn,
A maiden stepped out of his sleep.
No crown on her brow, no jewel in her hair,
Just eyes that were steady and deep.

He woke with her name like a weight on his heart,
Though no one had spoken it there.
He walked in the light, but he longed for the dark,
For night was the form she would wear.

Each evening she came like the drift of a swan,
White over water and sky.
Each morning she faded with dew on the grass,
And left him too empty to lie.

He learned she was Caer of the far hidden lake,
And by spell of the seasons was bound.
In summer a woman with warm human hands,
An’ winter in white feathers crowned.

He went to the shore where a hundred swans stood,
All silver and still in the gray.
He did not know which one carried her soul,
Or how he could ask her to stay.

“If you love me,” she called from the water and wind,
“Do not stand shining above.
Lay down your gold and come out to the cold,
Choose wing, choose winter, choose love.”

He could have stayed bright in the warmth of his name,
Safe from the winter and pain,
Instead he let go of the light he had worn,
And stepped into love’s quiet reign

White feathers rose where a young god had stood,
Two swans lifted into the air.
They circled the hills and the quiet wide world,
No longer divided by prayer.

They did not build thrones. They did not wage wars.
They did not ask heaven to prove.
They simply flew on, side by side,
For love is a shape we must choose.

And still when the lake holds the last light of day,
And swans drift soft through the blue,
The old ones will tell you what Aengus once learned,
Love changes the shape of you.

By Heather Patton / Verdant Butterfly

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2026 Heather Patton · The Verdant Butterfly
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