John Moriarty and Invoking Eiru
I dreamed my house was my grave mound. I was desolate, groping carved walls in the darkness. I found the passage. I was walking, I hoped, towards dawn. A solstice spear, a Sun-spear, speared me, tumbling me back on to the sepulchral floor.
I sat with the bones of my incarnations.
I ate the food of the dead. Bird food, boar food, horse food. Someone was there.
He was gathering the bones. Bones of the bird I was, of the boar I was, of the horse I was. Of creatures unknown that I was.
He heaped them together, boar bones on the bottom, bird bones on top. 'Your bonefire,' he said, setting fire to them.
He threw me into the flames.
I was sitting in ashes when I revived.
My first breath was a last plume of smoke.
'Eat it,' he said.
As I ate the ashes, I had visions. I was walking with animals. I was kind of their kind. I was mind of their mind. I woke up. I got up. Crossing the causeway I was when I realized I had the Sun-spear in my hand. It would, I realized, be in my hand whenever I needed it.
John Moriarty, A Hut at the Edge of the Village, ed. Martin Shaw, p52-53