for a few who asked, the story continues!! The next mythical chapter has arrived as……..
The Tears of the Forest
Niamh found herself walking through the evening trees and avoiding the more traveled paths of men. She allowed the west wind to guide her into a clearing. In the center of the grove a man stood transfixed, his arms outspread. She recognized him as the one with the staff and flowing cloak who had stood waiting on the hillside. Somehow she felt comforted by his presence. His shadow was etched on the folding hollow of a moonbeam while leaves from the trees fell like shimmering tears all around him. She knew at once she was inside a sacred circle.
Sensing her presence he turned toward her. His eyes were unseeing but a great luminosity shone from behind their milky glaze. Niamh found herself drawn into the light that she knew pierced the veil of his blindness.
“Can you hear them, child of the mound?” he said, “The spirits of the forest are lamenting.” The knower of trees bowed his head in sorrowful surrender as he continued. “Great changes have begun. If we forget the language of the ancient ones, the earth will spin out of balance and the sky will be rent in two,” he paused and opened his hand, “but you at least, will not forget.”
Niamh looked up as a mighty gust hit the tops of the tallest of the trees. They bent and swayed in roaring whispers of affirmation. When she looked back to the grove the old magus was gone and her eighth dream lay on the ground where he had dropped it. At the edge of the thicket the magnificent red stag appeared briefly before leaping off into the firefly shadows.
Niamh picked up the glowing orb that contained all the magic of this woodland vision and remembered Bran’s words on the shore of the dark isle. She too had surrendered to a strange destiny and she no longer knew if this journey had come to life through her own dreams or if she had come to life through the dream of another.
A Gaelic Lament