‘It was Mabon who played then in the youth of the world’
Take the hand of the invisible
and make it visible.
Pluck a chord of light
like a string from the ball of the sun.
Imagine spiders spinning their webs
between the constellations;
the songs of the stars,
make them audible.
Fashion the nine chords
of my harp – the harp of Teirtu –
do not think of how it will play alone
as you in this House of Stone
in the hall of Pen Annwn.
Think not of the turning of his fortress
‘in Annwn below the earth’
or ‘in the air above’.
Do not ponder the reason
for your imprisonment – why
you must become an awenydd or bard.
Reach into the darkness with the audacity
of youth and imagine the discovery
of the wealthy realms of Pluto.
Ask not why the sun does not shine there,
why a dog’s jaws are the doors
and questions remain unanswered.
Reach deep within for the chord that moves
the hearts of planets – underworld gods.
In the river of tears consume the hazel nut
unknowing if it contains the awen
or countless meteoric souls.
Escape down the trail of a meteor
on the salmon of Llyn Llyw.
Take the hand of the visible
and make it invisible.
Forget this story –
you have always been the harper
and my harp has always played on…