Aye, the times will change

Aye, the times will change,
But some things shall remain
In bracken, in dust,
In dying embers.

The walls will crumble,
The names shall be forgotten,
The music shall cease,
The kings shall be no more.

Aye, the times will change
But some things shall remain
In ruins, in stones,
In memories of old.

The sun will come out
At the hour foretold,
The moon will wax and wane,
The stars will never stop.

Aye, the times will change
But some things shall remain
In water and wind,
In fire and ice.

The empires shall fall,
The lands shall change,
The words shall end
And the worlds shall collide.

Aye, the times will change
But some things shall remain
In bracken and ash,
In mist and rushes.

The hearts will yearn,
The minds will wander,
The eyes will ever see
What the hearts love most.

Aye, the times will change
But some things shall remain
In tales of old,
In songs of the fallen.

Men will ever be undone
By the charm of women,
The bard will ever wander
And sing for his bread and mead.

Aye, the times will change
But some things shall last
For it is Taliesin,
Who knows it all.

We are ravens

We are the children of Odin,
His wings and winds,
His thought and memory,
His prophecy in the shadows.

We are the children of Bran,
His hopes and fears,
His breath and sighs,
His heart torn apart by grief.

We are the children of Morrigan,
Her passions and wrath,
Her sight and hearing,
Her spirit untamed and free.

We are the children of Gwyn,
His voice and eyes,
His wisdom and wit,
His cloak of darkness and mist.

We are the children of Lugh,
His power and glory,
His healing and knowledge,
His courage of fire and ice.

We are the children of Nuada,
His paths and ways,
His words and storms,
His cries on the wind.

We are the children of Crom,
His sentinels and guards,
His messengers and guides,
His mind soaring high.

We are the children of Branwen,
Her pain and strength
Her tears and loss,
Her will broken by men

We are the children of yore,
Darkness and light,
Wings of wisdom,
Lords of the sky.

We are ravens.

I am the storm

There, on a cliff, I sit
Clad in storm and nightfall.
Silver wheel buzzes
As I pull the thread.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

My eyes are closed
Yet I see everything.
Dark is the sky,
Yet my hands glimmer.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Ravens gather
To feed at my feet,
Seagulls cry
Circling my head.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Change I feel
Gathering like the clouds
Amidst the cold waves,
Twixt land and sea.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Seas rise, realms fall,
Oceans roar in the night,
Rain falls on my chest,
As the wind howls.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Age has no power over me,
Neither has vanity.
I weave the winds
Into the tapestry of time.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

My name is shrouded in mist,
My voice is the voice of the sea.
My face is stern,
My heart aflame.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Turn, turn, my wheel,
Catching the clouds
Singing with the thunder
Of life and death.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Changing forever
Is the deep water,
Many a face it holds
In its embrace.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Dylan they call me,
The one of the waves,
Motherless son,
The king unthroned.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

Weaving the clouds
Calling in the waves,
Here I am,
By the wheel.

No herald of storms am I,
No harbinger,
No prophet.
I am the storm.

No Prince is my equal,
No king is above me,
For I am Dylan,
The voice of the sea.

Ah! Do not grieve

Ah! Do not grieve,
My gentlest heart,
For my ill fortune,
Or my reckless tongue.

Ah! Do not grieve,
Ah! Do not grieve.

Ah! Do not grieve,
My flighty muse
Has left me long
To tarry in despair.

Ah! Do not grieve,
Ah! Do not grieve.

Ah! Do not grieve,
My bleeding heart
Has loved too much
And would prefer to die.

Ah! Do not grieve,
Ah! Do not grieve.

Ah! Do not grieve,
My rose of may,
For wretched soul
About to depart.

Ah! Do not grieve,
Ah! Do not grieve.

Ah! Do not grieve,
The time is short
For those who love
And those who die.

Ah! Do not grieve,
Ah! Do not grieve.

Perchance I may,
If thou be kind and true,
To carry love beyond –
The one I bore for you.

Trace thee I shall

Trace thee I shall
With long forgotten ink,
With quill unseen
From depth of my despair.

Trace thee I shall
With words instead of hands
With sighs unheard
From times that are no more.

Trace thee I shall,
With love that flowers still,
With hopes unchained
From bloody days of yore.

Trace thee I shall,
For none can hold me now,
My heart is true,
To yours forever bound.

Owl prayer/Blodeuwedd

These days are hard enough as they are, and we do need strength to reach out and walk through unbeaten. Here is what comes to mind as the days unwind. For me, Blodeuwedd is the ideal choice when it comes to resistance , boundaries, resilience and strength to carry on unchanged, brilliant and ready to strike if necessary .

Blodeuwedd,
Let me hide in the shadow
Of your wings.
Let me find strength
Where the others see weakness,
Teach me to be kind
Yet unyielding,
Understanding,
Yet bold
In the face of trouble,
Accepting
Yet resistant
In the tumult of emotions.

Bring me your wisdom
And let me learn
To shield myself with love
Instead of aggression,
To protect what I love
With care and hope
Instead of pain and hurt.
To forgive and forget
When the reason is mute
And the heart breaks.
To stop and reconsider
Instead of burning bridges.

Blodeuwedd,
Teach me to bloom
When the cold creeps in
To ruin me,
Teach me to withstand
Judgement and envy
Of those who live in fear.
Teach me to battle
Doubts and nightmares
With knowing heart
And sharp mind.

Blodeuwedd,
Help me to soar
Above the storm,
Embracing them
as the welcomed change
And not the obstacle.
Teach me to battle
The ignorance
Of my own,
And bring peace
Where the soul cries out for help.

Teach me to be myself
For that is the greatest treasure
To be discovered
On the way to freedom.

Deer cry/ Elen

As the yew becomes birch,
And the deer paths are renewed,
I stand at the crossroads
With my eyes closed.

Here, in the evergreen mist,
Let my voice reach the clearing
Where she stands, beckoning,
Calling to join.

My Lord of the wilderness,
Make me stronger
So I can reach the clearing
Where she stands, beckoning.

My Lord of the Blessed Hunt,
Carry me over the storm
So I can reach the clearing
Where she stands, beckoning.

My Lord of the White Falcon
Give me wings so I can cross over
And reach the clearing
Where she stands, beckoning.

My Lord of the White Riders,
Let me become the wind,
So I can reach the clearing
Where she stands, beckoning.

My Lady of the ways,
Be kind to me,
Let me reach the clearing
Where you wait, beckoning.

My Lady of the deer paths,
Make my way straight
So I can reach the clearing
Where you wait, beckoning.

My Lady of the hopeful heart,
Make me unyielding
So I can reach the clearing
Where you wait, beckoning.

Here I stand, by the birch tree,
Yew staff in my hand,
Ivy covering my trail,
Holly crowns me.

Thorns of the hawthorn
Pierce my heart,
My pain dissolves
In mistletoe wine.

Open the door, Lady,
And let me Through
For I am on my way home,
To you.

Fiach Dubh/ Raven song

To Yuri Leitch . With gratitude.

Somewhere, on the spiral paths of the mounds,
Between the sea and the wind,
Time waits.

Somewhere, on the brink of twilight,
On the edge of great waters,
I stand.

Long are my nights, longer than long.
Dark are my days, darker than dark.
Time stands still.

When the sky grows cold,
When the seas rise higher than clouds,
I take a breath.

Old are my eyes, older than old.
Ancient are my songs, more ancient than stones.
I look up.

What once hurt, does not hurt anymore.
What once was crooked, is straight.
I cry out.

Voices ring out from the cold,
Voices answer from the abyss.
The Sidhe listen.

Sea foam glistens in the pale moonlight.
Mighty and strong are the waves.
I sing.

Somewhere the sun rises- silver-white,
Somewhere it dances, too high to see.
I spread my arms.

The melody drowns me, engulfs me.
I unravel, I die, I fall apart.
I become myself.

Wings the colour of night, pain and stars,
Feathers of silk and storm
Clothe me.

I see through the raven’s eyes,
I fly on the Wings of fate.
I cry out.

Fiach Dubh, they call me.
The crow of the thousand names.
The messenger.

Where the silence once reigned,
The voices sing.
They ring in unison.

Where the bard once stood,
The bird appears,
Free and untamed.

Somewhere the dawn comes.
The hills are all snow and ice.
I sing the new day.

Alder trees greet me as I come,
And the tower of white
Shines like the beacon.

Bran, they call me.
The sleeping sentinel.
The ever vigilant king.

Bran they call me.
What would you call me,
When we meet again?..

Do not dare

Don’t you dare cross the elven path
When yew berries are full of blood,
Do not dare and do not trespass:
When uncalled, this shall be your last.

Don’t you dare sing in woodland realm
When the alder trees cry and moan,
Do not dare: you won’t be the same
When the darkness invades your song.

Don’t you dare dance in the candlelight
In the circles of silver stones
Do not dare, for the circle’s might
Will not let you return back home.

Don’t you dare venture far at dusk,
When the king passes through the Glen.
Do not dare, for his horse is fast,
He will keep you until the end.

Don’t you dare follow faerie ways,
Elder pathways are not for fun:
Do not dare: you will not be saved,
People vanish here all the time.

I am the wind on the sea/ Fionn

I am the wind on the sea
The ninth wave,
The greenest of hills.

I am the battle crow
The cry in the night
The swiftest of blows.

I am the keeper of wisdom
The deepest of pools
The brightest lightning.

I am the sentinel of truth
The Leader of leaders
The fastest of arrows.

I am the torch in the dark
The sharpest of swords
The hottest flame.

I am the heart of the forest
The flight of the deer
The keenest glance.

I am the star of the West
The fragrance of blooms
The sweetest honey.

I am the silver moon
The rising of the sun
The king among kings.

I am the one who knows
The seeker of justice
The Son of the sea.

I am the ever lasting
The protector of Ireland
The loudest horn.

I am the sky and the rocks
The shattering waves
The voice of the truth.

I am the song of the morn,
The shield and the bow.
I am Fionn.

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