Keening,
Her
gift for posterity,
the
undying gift of Bride the Banfile,
power
of word endowing
the
pain and agony
with
immortality.
Inheritance
she left for
those
to come.
The
inheritance of spirit
passed
on beyond blood.
Spear
struck Ruadan
and
without his blood spilled
that
deep and powerful voice,
Her
voice,
would
never had risen.
A
mother's grief birthed lamentation,
sacred
union of word and sound
wedded
by pain to never part again.
Him,
left dead, her left alive,
her
left to live forever in the heart of each of us
knowingly
or unknowingly,
each
time someone is keening.
Her
gift for posterity,
the
undying gift of Bride the Banfile:
the
visceral yell erupting from
the
soul sliced open,
the
soul of a mother
cradling
her dead child,
and
nevertheless
make
that a gift,
a
step into immortality.
