We inherit things/ Dylan
In Welsh mythology you can find all sorts of things. Cousins, that are alike yet different, boys that become kings and yet - we know so little of them. Dylan ail Ton is the elder son of Arianrhod .
....we inherit things.
From my mother, I inherited the spirit.
Wild, untamed,
Raging as the sea,
Deep as the night sky.
So was she -
So am I.
...we inherit things.
From my mother, I took the love.
All-encompassing,
Unconditional,
Raging as the sea,
Deep as the night sky.
So was she -
And so am I.
She bore me by the sea,
To the sea I returned.
Her tears became the water,
That flooded the land.
Dylan she called me,
The son of the sea,
Dylan, the waves cried,
The son of ill-hour.
...we inherit things.
From my mother, I inherited
A silver harp
And a spinning wheel
Of linden and gold...
Spin, spin, the waters cried,
Play on, son of woe,
Spin, spin, live and die,
As you've done before...
...we inherit things.
My mother gave me the sky.
My mother gave me the moon.
My mother gave me the strength.
My father...I never knew him.
****
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.
Ail Don they call me,
Son of the wave,
The one who comes first,
Goldenhaired.
Eil Môr they call me,
Son of the sea,
The darkness of water,
Silverscaled.
Motherless,
Orphaned,
Thrown into the sea,
Forlorn.
Fatherless,
Unloved,
Given away,
Forgotten.
Water is wide,
It raised me.
Water is wide,
It gave me hope.
Darkest of nights
Took my life,
Deepest waters
Gave me breath.
Brother mine
Thrice loved,
Eagle eyed,
Wings of justice,
Brother mine
Was given the skies,
I was given
The depth of the sea.
Brother mine
The sun and stars,
Brother mine,
The fiery spear.
I, The child
That never was,
I, The child
Unwanted and lost.
I, The child
Of the second wave,
I, The child
Of the night and pain.
Dylan,
Rage of the seven seas,
Dylan,
Strength of the thousand storms,
Dylan,
Cried over by the sea,
Dylan,
Slain by his own kin.
Ail Don,
Cries the water still,
Ail Môr,
Over shallow grave,
Ail Don,
Does your mother know,
Ail Môr,
That the wave can't die?...
I'll return
When the heart is sore,
I'll return
With the tide again.
Let my voice
Fly above the sea,
Let my voice
Cross the water wide.
Come with me
To the water's edge,
Come with me
To be whole again
What a hauntingly reflective poem. Beautiful.