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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/925119
Rated: E · Prose · Fantasy · #925119
taken from myrddin and vivian, a celtic love story.

How did I meet her, how did she appear.
Like a fleeting glimpse of twilight through the trees.
Like a butterfly kissing the flowers of an ancient dawn.
Like all the seasons wrapped in softest silk.
Like a thousand spider webs draped over a standing stone Glistening in the morning dew.

How did I know her, how did she appear.
Like a salmon darting through the crystal waters.
Like a dream dancing in the halls of a thousand memories
Like all the spells of love wrapped in ribbons bright.
Like a thousand feathers gathered together in the sacred grove becoming our nuptial bed.

How did I meet her, how did she appear.
Like a full moon hanging in an autumn sky.
Like a golden tree tinged in an aura of morning dew.
Like all the twilights wrapped in silent crystal.
Like a thousand leaves spread on a bed of light such gentleness in its eternity.

How did I know her, how did she appear.
Like an eternity in the bounty of the now.
Like a glimpse of secrets in the holding of the veil.
Like a caress of the silent nights.
Like the wind of love blowing through the heart of a lonely fool.


As I moved throughout Logres, I saw her in every hedgerow, every pool of crystal oblivion, every smile on the face of the child, every flower that blossomed on the moors. I felt her gentle touch, in the wind upon my cheek, the sweetest rain upon my head, the calling of the birds and animals, and every creature that dances in the joy of celebration. As a child I would wander the world hoping beyond hope of catching a glimpse of her. As a young man full of foolish boastings, I sought her glance in the forest of the night. As an older man I sought her in the gentle sigh of the eternal now. I have sought her beyond the walls of death; I have danced with her in the halls of Logres and on the shores of Avalon. I have sought her in the mist beyond the mist; I called on the Cymry and the Picts, to keep an eye on her soul and body while I was away in other lands. This they did because it was I the Myrddin who showed them the keys to their own being. I touched her in the morning dew, with the buds of the moon on her lips. I caressed her on the shores of the tempestuous seas where the passions that we stirred in each other were boiling in its rhythm and tossing us into its stormy recesses. Aye, where both of us longed to drown. I touched her like I would a flower, I touched her like a raging torrent, I touched her with a gentle kiss, I touched her with a thousand leaves and trees. That first glimpse of her, as she stood by the water, was like an intoxication and how the wine of poetry and the music of madness was on my lips. The pleasures of the Awen could not replace the sacred gifts that I stole that day, the look, the glance from the sacred eyes, in whose being I would swim for all eternity.

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/925119