Urien
In his longhouse in Caer Ligualid,
A figure stands by a smouldering hearth.
This is Urien,
Son of Cynfarch Oer
Son of Meirchian Gul
Son of Cenain
Son of Coel Hen
King of Rheged.
He is staring at the rising sparks, Imagining figures forming in the smoke.
There is his lady,
Morgan de Fay.
His sons,
Owain
Rhiwallon
Elfin
Rhin
Pasgen.
Urien looks up,
Watching his family drift
Up to the dark roof timbers,
And wonders if this
Is what we all become,
Nothing but spirit and ashes,
A flickering of memory.
He fingers the cross
Around his neck.
His eyes seek the ravens
On the shield by the door.
He walks towards the light,
Crosses over the threshold,
And steps into his world.
(Caer Ligualid = Carlisle)
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I love how this poem transported me back in time to Urien’s smokey longhouse.
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There’s been some recent research that suggests that Urien may have been based in South West Scotland. I’ve visited the site, puts things in perspective a bit.
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That’s such a history to be in touch with.
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This is beautiful, like a chant: a flickering of memory.
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Thank you for your kind comments. Greetings from Scotland and great to hear from you on here.
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It’s nice to meet you. I was introduced to your blog by Mary Smith. one of my favorite bloggers on WordPress.
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