Over mile and sun’s hour
through barriers wrought by man and king
to a land of Kelt and Rome.
Out-pacing the dark and chain,
the pace of fruitless struggle,
and the fog of attitude.
Upon a decision’s dawning
A journey begins the journey.
Where outcast becomes alien becomes voyager.
A journey not started, but restarted.
Continued.
Yet not to be completed
‘til Arawn takes my hand
and leads me unto Annwn’s cool pastures.
To attempt the void.
To become one.
To see the nothingness as all
and become the light which shines back upon itself.
Tied with the golden thread
and carding flax for the Moerae,
Clotho and her kin.
To the tapestry and Finnobhar
may all paths lead.
To Brahman and the ki
I set my course.