The Muses

The Ring.

Cat Lindroth — Sun, 02 Aug 2026 06:13:23 GMT

Eagle screams above.
He always did have a way
of piercing through.

To the very heart of a thing.

Now Cathana is flayed, stretched wide
Open and breathless, she feels him.
Vercingetorix.

In his cell.

She is standing at the foot of his stone bed
He sits perched in the shadows of aloneness
Why did you choose this,

She asks.

Dearest brother,
She stretches out her hand
Through the stone wall pillars.

His crystalline eyes are felt as a rain storm
And hers a luscious oak tree,
A sight he has ached for
… for quite some time.

He knew she would come.
For this, for her ..
He had been holding on
For quite some time.

Cathana sits atop a mountain,
Her mountains
Overlooking the great cliffs
On the edge
Of an eternal abyss.

One hundred years into the future.

At a sacred threshold
From one world
To another.

Waves magnetized towards cliff mouths,
Now crashing.

Dismembering.
Falling apart
Just to re-assemble
Into - new form.

Whisked out to another earth - another world
As yet, unseen by this horizon.

Where the cliffs fall away, the eagle sweeps into the air-stream
Flowing the unseen channels
That guide the ocean’s
Sacred path
Home.

Cathana knows she is being called,

Summoned to a knowing

Somewhere quite beyond - knowing’s cliff

She remembers
The moment she
First learned of his fate

An anchor point
Plunging her peoples into
An Atlantean hell scape

A curiosity - a question -
Ripping through every cell of her being

How could you have come so far - Verci
Just to allow yourself to fall.

The ocean welling up now
Through her eyes;

Dear one, why - would you have come so far,

What are you trying to say;
Prey, tell me -

She is screaming now;
Her tenor matching pitch
With great eagle above

Her scream, now a shriek
As if letting out the
Sacred, from the quiet
Pain felt
Between them

Across time and space
A scream unleashing years of
Of shame. Of pain.

How could we come so close;
Just to stop
Short of…

She falls to her knees,

Why brother - have you left us this way.

You raised the great tribes ;

You called upon us

To serve at battle point

Just to leave us here -

To stand at the base of your reflection pool,

Of defeat.

We are trapped. Now

Verci,

The Romans are here now

On our doorstep,

Verci.

She sobs. she falls.

Arm outstretched towards his heart —

And before another word,
He thrusts his arm out to meet hers
Reaching through; ripping through
Time and space; ripping her down now

Under the ground now and
Into the bowels of earth.
Known by other names.

Down still farther.

Deeper and deeper.
Endless in its blackness.

And the pressure
Now squeezing her
From form;

Into the space

Between rock
And gemstones.

Until even in the
Earth, there was
Only nothing.

And only there.

He meets her.

She turns.
What and in which way
One cannot really know
-- but still she knows

She must face him.

You left us, Verci
You were our hope.
Our flame.

We needed you.
I needed you.

You were
Our North Star.

And, we are lost.
without you.

Verci..

I dont understand

I dont…

and; then

she is suddenly five years old.
and tucked under her mothers dress.
alone and all at once together;
she reaches up to grab at flesh that feels

as comfortable as her own skin on bone.
just to find a kind of nothing

and in that space,

a shock;

a shriek

an inescapable ache

a pulling away of chest from

breast bone;

heavy

falling

stone

Mam.

Maaaaaam!

Louder still.

She finds herself screaming

Where are you?

Her emerald eyes are white.

Mother, she whispers silently

Her heart is broken.

Shattered

Into pieces

That might as

Well be her fleshy body
Melting from her bones
Onto the floor below,

If there ever was one.

She is now
A myriad of shattered little eyes
Looking up at him.

Calm and grey now
He returns her gaze

Gently.
With an eternal loving grace.

He closes his eyes

Softly
And bows
In a prayer.

His left hand
To his heart
He knows

Perhaps

More than anyone

This exact
Feeling.

Alone
Lost
Scared
Shattered.

And through this channel
A transmission
A breath
That soothes and
Eases her jagged edges

Melting, congealing,
Finding themself
Again,
As one,

Once more.

Finding her form
-- she puts a hand to his heart

And with this,
He takes a knee
Holding her hand to

His solar plexus
An emerald
And gold

Orb engulfs
His being

He
Pulls from his
Left hand

A ring

Which
He holds close
To his heart

Head bowed in
Aacred blessing

His eyes gleaming now
Tears falling
He looks up at her
Solemnly

Painfully
Quietly
Knowing
Now what
Is to come.

She nods.

Come what may

And so he places the ring
On her hand;
Eyes meeting once again

A silent stillness
Between them
A knowing
That they will
Indeed make it
Back home

Together.

Again one day.

Her heart now, beyond broken.
Beyond pain. He whispers to her

Breathe.

Cathana

Breathe.

Cathana’s eyes shoot open.

Pushed to the very edge of her pupils.

First dark and almost dead.

Still feeling the pulse of the earth,

Just under her sternum

Breathe. Cathana.

She thinks of her people

Breathe.

She thinks of her mother

Breathe.

She thinks of her unborn sons;

With each pulse a vision of people dying

Her people

Screaming

Her heart rate rising

She can feel the faint imprint of a crown on her head
A ring on her finger, now adorned with a destiny
She has felt for quite some time

In the spaces just beneath her breast bones
She hears that
Whisper
Still in the winds

Just beyond her

Call them home.

Cathana

Her eyes now open.

Eagle screams above.

A wave crashes below.

__

52 AD
Cidair Idris
The ring.

The Dreaming

Cat Lindroth — Fri, 17 Jul 2026 10:42:12 GMT

Cathana awakens to
a wide open door
in the dead of night.

A crackling fire
taking on so many
myriad shapes;

the many archetypes
she knows too well
from her childhood.

the great many stories
that layer
every step of her life
with depth and meaning.
and an art for seeing.

outside, the insects are humming
a kind of siren song

A magnet from mother moon
pulling at her heart strings

Guiding her home

she finds herself now
at the threshold
between dreams and night
darkness and light

she is now
pulling on her golden white
cloak and walking out
beyond her bed scape

Pulling her hood
over her head
she is
floating now
through her village,

above round huts
and luscious fields
juicy dew in the moonlight
Glistening

she is pulled still
farther and farther
towards her ancient circle
ancient groves, and
ancient fires

she knows

exactly

where she

is going.

Now
she finds
the open spot
calling to her
beside her known,
and eternal
sisters

bejeweled by
darkness,
bobbing
beside
her

All in distinct likeness
ecstatic smiles, wide and wild
outlined in the technicolor
of moonlight

While she can’t quite see their faces,

she has the distinct knowing that she stands

beside her dearest muses,

precious. and powerful.

She can hear the light hum of voices
crackling just above the drum beat
She is now siphoning from ether

a melody beginning to drop in;

a whisper just beyond mouths form;

calling in their great brothers and sisters
from earthen lands - near and far;

sacred bison and dear;
hawk and aurochs,
boar and horse,

all finding their way to the fire.

all connected in song.

Each sister
now handed a great oak branch
with twists and turns
not unlike their own.

one in each hand - they are now dancing between kingdoms
wands outstretched - in an exchange so intimate;
they are weaving worlds together now - one invoking the other.

Cathana feels her right hand
drawn out to grace the branches
of two sisters next to her.

Their wands clicking together.
As she spins in a half moon
the click enlivening her warrior spirit;

her energy rising from the depths
summoning legions
to stand and dance
alongside them.

And in this way
the sisters are now
dancing together.
Again

Wands outstretch
and inter-connected

Click-click-clicking
bringing a drum beat to
their chanting,

each beat jumping
all together now as one;

the sound and beat
rising and rising;

they are dancing ninjas in the night
miming with the light

With each click of their wand
they are climbing;

with each movement
their tree roots expanding

still deeper and deeper
into the earth.

They are now
all together
tangled up in branches

wild women, they are.

Weaving a tree of light
with one great spine
--- and a great inviting
to now step inside.

Hair puffy white.

Rolling thunder at her curls.

Grecian columns adorned
by blooming flowers and
cascading waters.

The Morrigann -- welcomes them home,
each one now -- with a sip of tea and a bow;

Cathana slips into a black void

Silence. Dripping through her pours

Juxtiposing -- an inner world
Scrambling -- searching for answers.

she remembers her sisters around the fire.
she remembers the click of their wands.
she remembers their rooting back into the earth.

she remembers — something
that she can’t quite grasp yet

But, can she remember
the question?

Dearest sisters: why did we come here?

She stares into a silent, faceless void

But she knows -- they are still with her

Somewhere out there

She can feel them.

She gasps out into an eternal sound scape.

The fire now starting to go out — now.

Perhaps its too late.

But - why did we come here ?

They now turn;
their eyes like fireflies
in the darkness - looking back at her

Call us home - Cathana

They all glance up to the great tree.
They are now fading.

Hands out stretched - but, Why are we dying?

Why —

As high as we might, as deep as we must.

A whisper consumes her

As high as we might, as deep as we must.

I — I don’t understand — You.

Your people have asked quite a good question.

She hears - Echoing through every pour of her being.

There will be an answer.

Come around the circle.

And we will find it.

Together.

______________

The tree morphs into the stars

— a constellation; a map —

Call them forward, Cathana.

Call them home.

The tree disappears - and she is but a girl alone in the dark.
A flower in her hand - without a fire, and only stars overhead.

Call us home, Cathana
She hears.
Breathe.

the flower dies.

breath is pulled from her lungs

and she falls to the ground.

___

Cathana, Cathana — come back to us; dear one

Come back to us — come back.

Cathana — she can hear the flutes

Now summoning her back across the waters, the gates, to her village

Cathana, you are the queen of the Ordivicci people;

We summon you — we seek you — we need you.

Her that, her eyes are open.

And a soft breath fills her lungs.

Her lifeless body begins to regain color of pink and peach.

And she turns her body slowly over.

She curls herself into a little ball

Slowly she pulls her hand to her forehead.
Her legs to her chest.
And she faces the fire.

Her elder mother caresses her arm
And urges her to drink water.
Putting a gentle hand to her back.

Cathana - what have you seen.
What have you recalled

Cathana gestures to Dylan to come to her,
and she pulls on his shoulder to stay with her

She falls into his lap, like a little girl - vulnerable, sweet, and a bit bewildered.

Cathana raises her eyebrows.

We have asked a question
We are seeking an answer.
We will find it together
We will find each other again
- The muses -
My true sisters
We will weave our light -
Under a great tree, of light ,
And we will grow roots
Deeper still
Into the earth.
From this great tree, of light
we can call ourselves home.
And then disappear.
Into a darkness
Black as night.

The room fell quiet. And still.

This rosetta stone, not quite revealed.

But what will we do?

Cathana - what about our people?

How can we?

We will all die. that is certain.

A deathly silence overtakes the room.

Cathana pulls herself off the floor.
She places her cup down on the nearby table.
Her eyes piercing the room to her beloved.
As if looking for some kind of confirmation.

She walks out of the round house,
and into the moonlight.
Head down.
Looking straight into the earth.

As if the answer could be foretold.

In the space beneath it.

___

55 AD
The Dreaming
Cidair Idris

Earth Mother Speaks

Cat Lindroth — Mon, 06 Jul 2026 03:34:47 GMT

Perched together

They observe
the morning dance
Of the wild flowers.

Foxgloves waving
Amidst the hay ricks
A haven for the many
Fairies at play.

Mischievous they are.

While bewitching .. they hold a gentle kind of poison.

Dylan called Cathana here - as a witness.

Dark patches cover their fields below.

Charcoal now scarring the hillside where golden grains should have been.

What remained would carry them only so far now - through the winter.

Still Cathana smiles.

Her eyes wide and wild
remembering her sisters
dancing around the fires of Beltane.

And of the days of work
They spelled as one.
Seeding fertile grounds
Fed by elder-lore and song.

Dylan and Cathana passed between them a pouch of toasted barley.
Cathana recalling - how much she loved that felt sensation
of barley beads rolling across her tongue.

Staring down now - at their aching fields - they stood side by side in silence.

Cathana’s eyebrows raised.

Her gaze - in the distance, a place beyond here and now.

Well - ehem - what do you think?

Cathana drew in a long breath - whilst nodding … up .. and down...

Her eyes - somehow - still smiling.

Turn to face his.

Clearly, she’s spoken.

Her statement was obvious - and held dire implications.

When are we going to stop

Believing its blood she wants.

Dylan bobs his head - in agreement.

Cathana sees that after all this time

He is still as buoyant and kind

As the boy she met - rolling down heather fields.

So many years ago.

Always willing to yield he was - to her anyway.

Cathana loved his

Distinct lightness of being

That could always finds his
Way in to the heart
of a thing:

“Well, what exactly is she saying, though?

Expel Artur? Go West? South?

Fight? .. Die?

His words stir within her
A caldron of memories
Of horror and torture

Visions that have
haunted her dreams
over and over.

She would hold this too on her shoulders.

Her duty - of giving voice to the land.

For a people - who had lost their will to understand.

Cathana motions with her forehead - the direction - of home.

Before she could step forward,
Dylan stays her advance
Placing his hand on her heart

You will know this out, Cathana. - He brings his forehead to hers.

Cathana nods - her shoulders firm.

She places her hand on his heart -- pushing him back -- gently.

They don’t want to face it.

And, still - we can’t go on like this.

She takes leave of Dylan’s company;
And begins to walk home from the fields alone.

She always did love the sound of curlews in the trees.

Sticks breaking beneath her feet

Her life began here.

Cathana began a familiar descent, carving down the hillside.

She walked along the seams of an unseen tapestry.

Reaching out her hand - to grace her most beloved oak tree.

Under it.

The wisdom of worn skin.

Ancient circles - ever widening.

Now breathing through her veins.

She felt her lips begin to quiver.

Her daughter
Would never know

These trees

If these prophesy
Came to be.

She looks now into the eyes of her beloved.

What does it mean -- we are meant to leave?

I know I know -- horror awaits -- should we remain.

But where would we even go - from here.

And just then - she heard through
The fabric of her being:

Not where

My dear.

But when.

She stared into the bark of her tree - quizzically.

This is exactly what I mean; you have been

Insufferably confusing.

Can you really blame them - for not listening?

The tree simply stared back, still.

They stand off.

Cathana’s chin - tilted dew north.

A sharp breath in.

She felt the tree peering into her - fear - that no one else could see.

A feeling she refused to meet.

For fear would make her visions real - and this - she would not allow.

And yet - she could see it so clearly now.

Destiny - had arrived.

The Romans would take them - soon enough.

Why have the fates called this in?

Not us - she heard.

You...

Her dragon blood - beginning to boil - her heart on fire now.

Come child - Cathana collapsed into the ground.

Falling into the woven skirt of her mother;

She curled
into a ball.

And began
to scream.

Her fists
striking
the ground.

Her shoulders
cradled by earth.

She fell still. For a moment.

You are not alone in this, dear one.

Even when we are gone - we will find you.

So get up.

Get up now.

She said more sternly.

Ceremony is coming - Cathana.

Hold your center.

For this story is just beginning.

And you will find your way.

One way - or another -

To the end of it.

52 AD
Cadair Idris
Earth Mother Speaks

The Five Points

Cat Lindroth — Wed, 24 Jun 2026 01:13:58 GMT

She places a fingertip over his heart
… circling the five points.

In one clean motion, she buoys her left hand
ever so gently around the curve of his neck.

A warrior. A lover. A visionary. Who has lost his way.

She glances into his eyes, still fast asleep.

Her teeth
snake her bottom lip.

His hand gently
overtakes her grasp
on his heart.

Yes?

He says alert

As if he still had acute control
over his legion.

He consciously collects
her hand in his
-- lacing her fingers
within his own.

Gently circling the silhouette of her skin.

He looks at her now,
with full presence.

I see the shadows are here with you this morning, Catha-?

Cathana threads her legs into his;
- like a knot tightening.
She shifts her body swiftly
-to mount him.

Looking down into his piercing eyes, now:

Artur ..
Verci is dead.
She said.

Sucking her cheeks in.

Breath suspended
Eyes distant
Peering into the abyss
That lay just beyond his.

And into
a kind of nowhere
she stares:

He was murdered by Caesar

like our crops

like our people

like our …

Artur interrupts
with a great sigh
of impatient
exasperation

- He seeks to deter her-

We have known this … for quite some time … Catha-

Perturbed by this
- unexpected-
injection
of what feels to be
ancient history -

He said:

His wasn’t our time to win;

but it is coming

with his sacrifice

with his seed planted

- we can stand on his shoulders - and -

He stopped short.

Noticing her sharp inhale
and the cut of her chin
nodding sharply to the north
- her hand
now falling from his left cheek
towards that concave space
just below his neck.

She settles more deeply
into the curve of his hips

He is dead
because
he chose to be.

We know this,
and yet -

Artur cuts her off again -

Cathana, we have been over this -

No - there is more to see here in this story, Artur

His was a message to us

It’s clearer than we want to see …

He rallied the tribes

He united Gaul.

The most powerful amongst us

He brought us to the brink -

And - for what?

What did he choose - Artur?

A cage.

For two years.

And then paraded throughout Rome,

Strangled by Caesar’s - own - hand.

It is a message.

You know, it did not

Just - so - happen

This way.

These details, they were chosen
- and, it is our duty now to decode them

Cathana - This is madness. This leads us no where we want to go.

And - do you really want to speak to me of duty?

A heaviness
slows the vibration of sound.

The weight they both feel
fills the room.

Dead
silence.

Until Cathana breaks their
short-lived truce.

Artur - he speaks to me … in my dreams….

He is - with me in his death

And I know there is more

He is trying to say.

We cannot go on fighting this way;
- not like this. not like them.
There is another way.

There is -- a knock on the door -

And just so, Dylan arrives at the threshold.

Cathana - I need your help …

I’m kind of - she looks down at Artur’s bear chest

It’s important -

Cathana and Artur look fiercely into each other’s eyes

Still magnetized to each other
As they have been.
Since the day they met.

Not breaking eye contact.
Not moving her hand from his throat.
She replies in a soft tone.

I’ll be there shortly.

We will find a way through this.

He says.

His eyebrows raised,
a flirtatious gaze
now graces his face.

Shifting into notes of
deep care and compassion.

He is a man who holds
in his arms the most beloved of jewels.
-- and he knows it

Cathana shakes her head;

Dismounting in one swift motion
grabbing her robe and cloak.

Pulling a feather from a vase
Weaving it softly into her braids.

With a fixed stare into the ground
As if imploring the earth herself
To simply - just - come out
and say it:

How will we survive this?

Prey - tell me.

A whisper runs rogue from her mouth

Falling into the earthen floor.

She closes her eyes for a moment

Steadies her breath

- and without looking back

walks out the door.

_

52 AD

Artur

Cadair Idris

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Midjourney interpretations: Artur & Cathana

Sacred Sisterhood

Cat Lindroth — Fri, 05 Jun 2026 23:43:34 GMT

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

There is nothing quite like the sweet laughter of lifelong friends.

We were just girls then.
We had found each other there.
Of course, on purpose.

Even then
we would
sneak out
to meet the moon.

Under the stars
we would
whirl deliriously,

Eyes enchanted,
and full of wonder;
From sparkle and star dust born by
moonlight and thunder.

Being with my sisters, my muses,
It was like snow angels in rain storms;
Boundless earth,
dropping her guard.

It was
wild open horizons
and miles deep caves.

The rolling tides
of a drumming
circle, fueled by
fire and feet
that couldn’t possibly
have hit the ground
harder.

With us anything was possible.
Magic wands out.
Our wilderness
inward and out --bound,
we were to each other
a golden thread
that would never end.

Even then
we were
a portal to
another
land.

Back then,
We would sneak
Out to meet
Our new friend
The new moon
under the stars
in full bloom.

We would dance with our shadows,
gaming across fairy-lit meadows,
leaping up and over boulders
peaking up only to peer up
at our dearest, dawning
new muse
surely to bemuse
our wild dreaming.

We could feel her spirit now

just beyond the clouds,

a new friend

a new universe

we were ready to know her

new truths, ready to be tripped up

a new you, ready be ripped up

we knew,
with the
new moon
nothing would
be the same
Again.

so what could we do, but dance
to the death of a younger self
that no longer stood a chance
even-a day longer hence
On these howling lands
Of the isle of mona

I remember our curls
wild hair - black and red;
golden and free like the dancing trees
an invitation of some kind
that i’m still untangling.

An invitation that still now
takes the form of
loose tendrils
dangling into her
gentle
waters

curls

coyly

flirting to go farther
bodies draped across
boulders
heads bobbing up and down
upside down
with the rippling tides
the ice cold waters
a quite sober
reminder that
falling in,
would surely mean
a scream.

There were nine of us
back then.
Three by the river

Three draped in the trees

And three searching amidst the flowers

and pebbles and gem stones, for the perfect
gift for our mothers -- to bring back
and rejoice in the synchronicity
bound up in the magic of
everything.

and so there we were…

just at that moment where Cathana began to hum.

and Cassia grabbed a stone to drum;

And Cayla gathering magic sticks, struck

by the fairy dust of a dawning moonlight

handing them out, one by one

Somehow not once
taking her eyes off mother moon
which is why
she was indeed the last to see
the Morrigan herself
Appear by the river,
sister to the sea
a mounting apparatition,
appearing to be
a living ghost
right there
before us

So you want to play with magic --

she says with a half smile
and curious nod,
that could have
ignited the hearts of a
of a battlefield,
charging into
uncharted after-worlds.

You better know what your calling for

A perfect storm is quickening

This we know.

And darling - sisters
there will be
no going back.

Eyes wide, and hearts still,
Uncertain at what exactly
it was; the meaning.

Could it really be
her, The Morgann.

Keeper of wisdom,
Of our ancient traditions
The rituals and rites
Of our aching kingdoms

You
are stewards
of our known
Traditions.

She said.

Guardians
And weavers of
A great mystery,

She said.

of life and lore -
you are and
will be
the bridge
between the wolds,

As we face

these great tidewinds

ahead

She said.

Our world is ending;

and with it

our ancient traditions unraveling;

saddling humans,
into a quickening pace
that our earth
will not sustain;

and neither will our faith.

your path will not be one of power; she said
and even when you are cast out; you
will be guiding the lost home; out from
burning and broken towers ; she said.

when
you too
feel lost dear ones
look to the streams
and our sacred trees;
and surely there
you will find me

some among you
will not make this stand
across time and space;

still if you decide to take this
oath it is you
who will be forever
changed.

You will be guided
To uphold
The integrity
of our inevitable
afterworld.

All will feel broken and all will be lost ;

But fear not
You
will emerge
Stronger
And clearer
after this dark typhoon

Which will reveal more
about the light within
Than we have ever known

Give it time;
give it space;
and dearest sisters -
please hold your faith.

Even as men come down from the mountains
And take control- over land, over sea,
Over everything sight can see.

Roman forces now mount their horses
And - they are not far off now;

You must know
this war is already lost.

Your people
will not want to leave their lands
and you will try to make them understand;

Your hearts will be broken; your tribes will be lost

But keep faith
And you will find each other
Again one day

The sun will rise;
and a new age will dawn
and in it the muses
will sing their song.

You are
needed
to bard this story;

and its you who will unlock it
from earth’s fury.
You will sing her song,
her lullaby, ever haunting
You will learn
To call them home ;

I look to you
sacred sisters

Your oath is
now
with this knowledge
requested.

If you will
step into this
destiny; together
invested
in a world
made whole
again
one day.

So sisters-
I dare ask you -
- now -
once -
and for all.
is it you;

that is

truly ready for,

this sacred storm.

Eyes drop
heads bow
heart-beats soaring
not a breath
dumb-struck in silence
emotion damned-back behind
an eternal scream descending now
from somewhere as yet unseen.

Not knowing whether to sob
cry, giggle, laugh or die
their eyes closed;
dropping to their knees
they vow
to stand as guardians
of a duty far greater than they
could quite understand.

All they knew,
now - was
there was no
going back.

From what, or why
when and how
they could not

possibly know.

All they could do
was float back
to their bedscapes

Tuck themselves in

Still holding hands;
still feeling the delight of their
dearest moonlight.

Hearts beating as one.

Not knowing - as time wore on -
what exactly they had heard;
what exactly was sworn;
or what exactly it meant
- for all of them - now

that they had entered
a point of no return.

32 AD

Isle of Mona

The Dreaming

Created with Midjourney by Cortney Jacobsen

The Muses: A Pre-Launch Gathering

Cortney Jacobsen — Mon, 18 May 2026 19:02:40 GMT

What is The Muses?

History has left us only breadcrumbs about the Celtic people and their overrule by Rome. Much of what we know about their sacred culture and customs originated from the Celts’ biggest enemies - the Romans and the Greeks - leaving historians, scholars, and archaeologists with an ever-growing list of questions about Celtic origins and their presence throughout Central Europe and Britain. Even less is said about the lives and experiences of Celtic women.

It is time to tell the story of these forgotten people.

It is a story of faith, courage, and integrity. Of the power of women, which grows stronger when united in divine sisterhood, to endure.

Catherine Lindroth, social impact entrepreneur and founder of EsoTerra, a global network supporting women’s empowerment, has channeled the story of The Muses and will bring it to life through prose storytelling, bardic poetry, and video shorts.

The story that wants to be told

Nine High Priestess Druids - who grew up together - reunite. And in that circling, they call in a great prophecy, and a shared knowing of an immensely inconvenient truth. These female druids, called Bandrui, vow to do all that is in their power to respond to what has been asked of them, knowing it may require exile and unfathomable loss.

And with this, a journey begins.

They hold the awareness that everything may surely fall. And yet - in showing up to all that they’ve learned with integrity - they might just find a way to preserve their wisdom across time and space, and guide humanity forward in the face of Roman Domination.

The Call

This summer (July 2026), Cat will bike from Croatia to the Swiss Alps - producing the first fourteen bardic poems of this great tale on the lands upon which it was born. She will ride and publish, week by week, to share this story with the world.

To bring the story into the world, The Muses is calling in a tribe of support: ambassadors who will carry this story into their networks, and patrons who believe great art centering powerful stories centering female protagonists deserves to be made.

The Journey

Five weeks. One thousand kilometers. Fourteen poems.

Cat will bike from Croatia to St. Moritz in the Swiss Alps - traversing the potent power line between Celtic influence and Roman domination. Across one thousand kilometers, we will share a channeled story of Celtic lore, in our pilgrimage back to lands most sacred to Celtic tribes.

The Send-Off Gatherings

We will have three events to publicly launch The Muses and celebrate the send-off on the journey. We would love to host you at the circle that calls to you —

~~Sunday, May 31 - 4:00pm Wilmington, DE~~
~~Sunday, Jun 2 - 2:00pm NYC~~
~~Saturday, Jun 13 - 10:00amET Virtual~~

RSVP for event location information.

These events will be an intimate, energetic blessing, where we will share more about The Muses, and will have an open mic for you. We will share

The first three poems of The Muses
A preview of our vision to bring the story to life
The bike journey to the sacred land of the Bandrui

Bring a poem, a song, or a piece of writing if it calls you to. We can all hear, and share, the stories that are aching to be told through all of our ancient bodies.

RSVP: Come Sit in the Circle

Choose your gathering - in Delaware, in New York, or virtually - and we will hold a seat for you. With courage, with faith, and with great curiosity and joy.

Reserve Your Seat

With love, and looking forward,