Thursday, 20 June 2019

From Regret and Sorrow, to the Clan of the Black wing.

 Midsummer's eve and the green is fit to burst, this year a hairs breath twixt fruitfulness and failure, we await the roll of that particular dice with all the anxiety of dog upon a slip, ready to run or stay upon the twists and turns of fate, hungry or sated, only time will be the judge of that riddle.

The skylark heralds the call of summer yet the cuckoo's voice may still be heard, seasons collide in this modern age of change and blame, this song of the world still gladdens the heart of this old warrior, for nothing stays the same and eager I am to dance with my oss once more.

Fate is an unpredictable mistress at times, it's cruel bite and bitter venom can leave the assailed in whirlwinds of confusion, actions are never without consequence and willingly we pay the price... Eventually.

I am truly sorry to those whom I offended, to those to whom I was cruel or inconsiderate, my judgement was floored, in truth I had no intention of being here now to even begin to contemplate these actions, yet my own Wyrd is not done, fate she finds a way and forward into the coils of time we go.
In my haste I shut many doors, other doors were shut for me, I live by the sword so be judged by the same I must, I hold no bitter fruit and hope that others too shall ponder upon the golden moments we shared and overlook the rusted iron of my own misjudgement, as I have said there is regret and there is much sorrow, what is Is ,so now we journey into what might be.

 On we move to a new age, each life we have is short and there is little time to achieve what we would like to achieve, or so the more ambitious amongst us might assume.
Separation from one family brings need fire to another, the healing balms took far longer to patch these wounds than I had hoped, I will always bear the deep scars of fate's own blade but it is now that I declare myself ready to walk the crooked paths once again.

It was my oldest friend, my dearest brother that urged me to not let my understanding of my Craft die with me, to forge ahead, keep going and leave a legacy that the ancestors would have been proud of.
A long while I have pondered upon this quest and have at last set foot among the briar's and thorn that beguile the hidden way, truth is that it feels as though I never left, truth is I never left I was only preoccupied.
I do not do this alone, a new family comes to the light, there is space a plenty for other travellers within the body of this dragon, so to old friend's and new folk alike I would bid you welcome aboard, behind fair wind or foul, beneath a black wing we shall go.

It is to the future we must travel, what has been done is done and we have perhaps urned some of life's hardest of lessons.
However, the wilderness is not a place to fear, it is a forge that rebuilds us better and stronger than we were, we fail in our lives if we wait for others to drag us from within its grasp, to take control of ones own destiny is the key, or perhaps roll over onto your back and expire, as individuals the choice is up to us.

So aside from the sorrow and regret, it is with love, honour and respect to my brothers and sisters of the craft that I step from the shadows and into the light once more. I wish every success in their own future and would joyfully hope that they would wish likewise to my own.

Flags, Flax and Fodder. Tony MacLeod.
Clan of the Black Wing.