Kaveon, derived from the ancient Irish name Caoimhín yet reborn on modern lips, conjures an image of a lone crane skirting the lacquered surface of a koi pond, its syllables unfurling like moonlight on silk. In its three-part cadence—kuh-VEE-on—there resides the quiet dignity of a moonlit bamboo grove, a delicate fusion of strength and grace that mirrors the Gaelic essence “gentle, handsome child.” Though its rarity in bustling registries might strike one as quietly ironic—like ordering a single sip of sake in a crowded izakaya—it nonetheless resonates with a discerning spirit, weaving Celtic winds and Eastern stillness into one melodic echo. One can almost picture Kaveon as a wandering poet beneath falling cherry blossoms, each petal a whispered stanza, the name itself inviting its bearer to tread a path both storied and singular, suffused with an ageless serenity.