Niamh thought she had heard a soft murmur coming from the glowing canopy of cascading leaves. It slid over her like a veil . She was sure she had just asked a question but when she looked no one was there. She sat very still trying to recall what happened. A raven barked raucously from a branch above her. She wondered if her eyes were playing tricks. Light beams fanned outward from a spot between his open beak as though he held the sun. The murmur returned but it became louder and formed words that seemed to come from inside her head.
The raven looked at her and she thought she heard a familiar voice saying, “The rest of the journey is yours alone and one I cannot make with you. The dreams you will find are not of the Tuatha.” There was a long sigh, “May you be blessed and safe, sweet Niamh!”
She murmured quietly, “Safe journeys my own dear Bran!”
Reaching out she took hold of the tiny sun that was her 7th dream and in return the raven caught her tears in his beak. It would be their last gift to each other. She was beginning to get a sense of a strange unfolding and of an even stranger destiny.
Ailein Duinn (Dark haired Alan)- a lament for a lost love