fili cenedl

fili cenedl by myrðin ap terra

	... the battle has ended, the ageless war is won; the enemy disbanded, the victorious are as one; can't I understand it now that the killing's done? Death came empty-handed with sunday's brilliant sun, to visit homes defended by every mother's son; patriotic dream repentant now that the killing's done. ... an few be those remaining alive to tell of Death's heavy harvest scythe.
	the Glywysing Barber and Rhiannon Traveling the road east of Carmarthen, Thinking of Tydwal and Maelgwn, I entered my valley, sweet home nest, Once a tender green vale, heav'nly blessed, Now stale - a stone's thrown dried crust - Ne'er a plant: Immaculate Conceptual dust. Running, in clouds, on wings of flame, Hiding, outstandingly honest in gilded shame Of forefathers' squandering my meagre heritage; Then I, reflected in waters, crossed the Neath bridge And stood amongst the people, whispering hence, Hearing later of my journeys over a backyard fence. "Nay, 'tis not I that you are referring to" And they left for the barber, turned heel in their shoes As I turned 'round in my tracks and started for Y Gaer To rest awhile and save, perchance, my hair. Entering Brycheiniog, I became the hunter's chase Through the woods. Atop a hill my thoughts raced As a hound upon the fox they passed into Y Gaer And rested, awaiting my hurried arrival there. Rejoining forces to continue with luck, if any, Onward to Pen-y-Gaer and thence to Abergavenny. But before Abergavenny my luck seemed to fail, Sitting on a rock by a stream through wooded dale; Cooling my feet, wondering if the barber might dwell The night in Pen-y-Gaer - into deep sleep I fell. Gentle morning awoke, dew fell in the brush, Birds chirped sweetly and I awoke with a rush; Looking about, feeling to ascertain the state of my hair, Calming my heart when discovering it all still there. Noon sun sliced the shade, beads sprang on my brow - Hours searching for the road, then here but gone now; Upon a rise, miles searched by two brownish eyes Found no hamlet, no tref, nor even Cadfan's llys, But on the horizon, a shock to me, seemed Caerleon, And I realized this was the Valley of Rhiannon. Rhiannon, Queen, sweet Lady supreme, Beholder and witness of all that is unseen, And here was I, caught in the dark web, Tales flashing back, wishing I were dead. A laugh, or the wind, a gentle voice in my ear Nodded, motioning for me to draw near, And I walked. A man dropped from thin air, "Halt!" he ordered, "be you taeog or breyr?" And my mouth answered, "Breyr", but not my mind, For it was days and weeks and miles left behind, And I walked. I awoke from a dream... Scaring myself with my own voice's scream; And the tree touched me, silky was its bark, Branches bending, caressing, like arms in the dark, And I walked. Kneeling upon the moist cold stone I humbled myself before Rhiannon's mystic throne; Kissing that rock, praying to Stator for my life, Whilst checking my pouch - Alas!, gone was my knife. The man appeared again, in the midst of the room Assuring me my life, erasing all fears of doom. "Who are you?" I asked and he replied, "Belatucader, "God of the vendetta, and Rhiannon's legislator." He took the seat of proconsul at the throne's right Just as Rhiannon appeared in a blinding flash of night; She sat high as I bowed low, and she then bid me arise And I saw the night owl and the panther in her eyes. Belatucader smiled at me and then stood at her hand Saying, "We were watching you traveling the land "From whence you began in Loughor of Cetgueli, "To your anguish on the Isle of Mon at Din Lligwy; "Through Gwynedd and Powys, down the river Wye, "Not a single movement has escaped our eye... "Therefore, you chose the path, wished to be knighted "That you might fight to have every evil righted. "But you've traveled in poverty, disguised your years "And run now in fear of the Glywysing barber's shears." He replaced the scroll from where it arrived, And continued: "At your home, a stone is enscribed "With the names of your parents - their place of rest; "But nothing lies beneath that noble rock but dirt "For your parents were not of such earthly birth. "Maponus, messenger of the sun, took Brigantia as wife, "And went into her, fine husbandman, to give you life; "Stator, overwrought with jealousy, cast you down "To wander the world as a mortal on mortal ground." Strange tidings, this, and he saw I was confused And spoke again, "We have brought you to be used "And, like your father, if you succeed in this task, "You will be made an immortal; you must do as we ask." I sat astounded, wondering what this task could be And I asked, "Pray tell, what would you ask of me?" He smiled as a fox, then sat as Rhiannon stood, "You have a message, you've seen bad and good - "The time has come to put all you know and understand "Into the language of night; with a mighty pen in hand. "As a poet you'll travel, teaching unto all you see, "But disguising it all into the lines of poetic mystery; "Warning of a message within - seeding their minds, "Until they see the answer, like a lamp unto the blind." I stood to plead ignorance to the 'message' I had found, But they vanished in sweet smoke; the room spun 'round And I walked. Four days I've sat beneath this tree Wond'ring if the barber has already given up on me. Soul-searching days, intense soul-stirring nights; The message made no sense, like the morning's light, And I walk...