I am told I must step into Orddu’s lineage. 

Warrior. Prophet. Spirit Worker. Inspired One. Healer.

I am old but on this path I am still so young.

Heretofore I have proved myself only with words,
with books, although those months on the mosslands
planting cottongrass and sphagnum might count for something.

I have said too much – talking about me, me, me, my problems.

The time for whining and complaining has come to an end.

It’s time to listen, to learn, craft a new art to heal the violence.

(I will not speak again of how Arthur killed her with his knife,
drained her blood into two bottles to grease a giant’s beard,
neither will I drive Carwennan again into my own wounds.)

A life off the page lies ahead of me now – the spirits call.