And He Sat at a Banquet of the Gods

Flames flicker, making shadows dance on the walls.
I stand fore the feast, only a visitor
While four figures sup the sweet ambrosia.
Faceless they are, all white in form and feature
Like things whose nature cannot be defined.
These are not human: these are greater, more.

As I lay dreaming I found myself in a banquet hall of the gods. The figures I saw, all white, lacking distinction of shape, were clearly gods. It seemed to me that, rather than seeming crude, their indistinct shape showed something of their nature as being Other. They were not humans, and as such were not inclined to too specific a form. But as I returned to the hall in my dreams over the next week, I came to know them better. To cut a long story short, I was to choose from among them a teacher to learn from; a path to follow; a god to serve. From amongst the Greek Persephone, the Celtic Oghma and Brighid, and a fourth grim and unnamed god, my choice was Brighid.

She was the natural choice. As a goddess of fire, inspiration, and poetry, amongst her other qualities, Brighid represents much of what I strive towards. I am an actor, a singer, and a writer of poems, fiction, and drama. I am a student of history. I enjoy crafting things, and whether I want to or not, I seem to be responsible for other people's well-being at times. Brighid's three roles as Smith, Healer, and Poet, all hold relevance to me. In retrospect, it seems she has always been there, and I just couldn't see. She was there at my door, waiting for me to let her in.