He stirred the pot for the third and final time, feeling the anticipation of the next day when the potion would be finished, and this responsibility would be over. Soon tiredness overtook him. At midnight, when the first minutes of the final day arrived what looked like a bolt of lightning struck the cauldron. The fire flared up and the extra heat caused the brew to boil fiercely. Gwion Bach was curious to see the bubbling potion, so he climbed up on his stool and looked over the rim of the cauldron. He saw the bubbles rise to the surface and pop over and over. To him it was hypnotic.

Suddenly one of the bubbles popped and splattered, shooting potion into the air with 3 drops landing on his thumb. Out of both pain and reflex he retracted his hand and brought his thumb to his mouth to soothe the burn. In an instant the boy’s body was permeated with a glow as if he was lit from inside. The brew collapsed within itself, the cauldron cracked and broke in half. Not even a single drop remained. Gwion Bach felt suddenly different. He felt aware. He felt a peaceful feeling come over him and his heart that was already a loving heart filled to overflowing.

Poetic words spilled into his head for every sight that entered his gaze. He looked out of the doorway to the shack and saw the surrounding trees that had always been there. But now, he was aware of them in a different way. He felt them. He felt the earth under his feet and when he took a step, he felt as if he was walking on a net, but he was part of the web, he was attached by his own being which reached out with his light body, as if to hold hands with other light bodies of other species. He had a knowing, an awareness. He walked toward the door but did not feel dead dusty earth under his feet. Rather, he felt movement with each step. He felt life moving with him.

He stepped on waves that kept him anchored and he felt the air around him, holding him up the way a parent holds a child as they take their first steps. He felt this support and love in every molecule. He was experiencing each second one at a time yet all together he had Awen. He held his hands up and got lost in the patterns and lines that were books telling him stories.

Morda stirred from his sleep and upon noticing the empty cauldron let out a cry of shock. Gwion Bach woke from his hypnotic euphoria and looked up to see a red headed woman on a white horse approaching. It was time; the year and a day was up, and she came for the potion that should be ready. She, with the strength of a mother, came for what she needed for her child...

Cerridwen knew exactly what had transpired as she rode up to the shack. She felt the Awen as it entered Gwion, who put his thumb to his lips and tasted the “knowing.” Cerridwen’s anger turned into rage, and it poisoned the stream, sunk into the earth and killed the trees in the woods surrounding the shack. Her rage built as her horse galloped toward the boy.

She was furious now that Gwion Bach had taken the three drops meant for Avagddu. Gwion Bach was so awake and aware that he felt her anger like a fire coming from her heart. He knew instantly that he must escape.

Change
Said the sun to the moon,
You cannot stay

Change
Whispered the sun to the moon
You cannot linger

Change
Murmured the moon to the tides
All things move

Change
Spoke the fields to the grass
There is seed
then there is silence
then the blade

You must change
said the worm to the blossom—
not into a rose
but into flight

Petals must fall
for wings to catch wind

You are changing,
said death to the maiden—
your pale face
becomes memory
becomes myth

Are you willing to change?
asks the thought of the heart—
to endure the fire
to walk through the unraveling
to shape your sorrow

for the sake of the unnamed,
the still forming,
the not-yet-known
in the great turning
of the world’s dream

You will change,
say the stars to the sun,
say the night to the stars

As Ceridwen descended on him, Gwion with his newfound powers, had only to think in his mind of running fast and instantly he became a hare and ducked under the brush. Not to be thwarted however, Ceridwen shapeshifted into a greyhound and continued pursuit, mouth foaming and open with sharp teeth ready to clamp down. As she closed in on the boy, her teeth almost touching his tail, he jumped into a stream and became a fish, flowing with the water, swimming fast with every bend and turn of the channel. Ceridwen followed and became an otter, sharp claws ready to grasp, reaching with the fire of her rage. As her paws brushed his scales, Gwion jumped out of the water and became a wren, only to be followed by Ceridwen who became the swifter bird as hawk. Darting up and falling again like a violent ballet they twisted and turned in the chase. Finally, Gwion spied a pile of winnowed grain and dove into it while changing into a grain himself. He thought that he was well hidden, but Ceridwen became a hen and pecked her way through the grain, eventually managing to swallow Gwion.

Cerridwen’s rage was destructive. As a hen, she would intend to kill Gwion, the grain of wheat now in her belly. But the boy was in the process of transformation within Cerridwen’s womb. In the spiral of time and after the fullness of the light of nine full moons, she would give birth. She knew this child to be Gwion and waited for her time to finally kill him. But, once he was reborn, he was a babe, so fair beyond any, and she fell in love with this child of light. She had not the heart to kill him outright. Anger can be tempered and calmed with love, and the heart can soften. So, when Ceridwen saw her child, her anger subsided. Gwion has been transformed and reborn. To gain knowledge or understanding, it is necessary to "die" or at least give up your previous form, as Gwion did. He changed into various animals and finally into a new person all together, the same ingredients just rearranged in the cauldron of the womb. New mother Ceridwen tied the child in a magical leather bag containing a bag of herbs she had collected over nine months and threw him into the river. He was swept up by the waters and into the sea. He sailed away in his little bag, away from the land, and the current rocked and danced him in the light of the moon and the dark. The moon knows our hearts and reflects love back to us. The babe was in this love light as he sailed the sea, a small package with such a large potential.

The tightly wrapped bag went wherever the river went and was adrift for a long time, but he was calm and never cried. He never fought his way out of the bag. He aged not a single day during his journey under the changing moon. He had the Awen with him.

In a nearby fishing village lived a king. This king had a temper as we find so often in powerful rulers. King Gwyddno had a son, Prince Elphin, with whom he had placed high hopes that often ended in disappointment. The king was overly critical to the point that Elphin quite gave up on trying to be a wise prince   Elphin had always been an overly cheerful young man, yet it covered a hidden pain. He was like the prodigal son from the parable except he hadn't left home. He managed to overspend at the taverns, making merry with the fisherman. Elphin felt his father's disappointment and it pained him in his heart. He was so afraid to displease him that he gave up all hope to win his father’s approval. Pain and fear ruled his heart, though he hid it well. He preferred the company of the fishermen. These fishermen worked hard but they got paid by the day from the royal treasury no matter the haul. No one became rich from fishing in the kingdom of Gwyddno. Elphin was quite jolly but rarely successful at fishing or anything else for that matter. The village being so near the waters of rivers, sea, and pond that it counted on the salmon haul from the nets. They had many festivals surrounding fishing. Beltane, or May Day as is also known, was the most celebrated festival for it was the height of spring and warm at the shore. The haul from the nets of May could make a man quite wealthy. King Gwyddno was in the habit every May eve of giving a prize the value of twenty trained horses or twenty of Britain's finest hunting dogs. This year he chose Elphin in hopes that his son would for once do well. Elphin wasted no time. He waded into the shallow sea where he hauled the wide nets ashore, pulling them out too early. His impatient temperament made him a bad fisherman. Each time he pulled the nets he found no salmon at all. He felt worthless and pained.

Elphin was feeling very low. On the last day, he noticed something on the pole at the weir, not a fish but a leathern bag. Each day Elphin felt unlucky but now he felt that he was a fisher of trash. He pulled at the leathern bag and opened it to have his eyes flooded with bright light. Elphin exclaimed, “Behold a radiant brow!" Taliesin emerged from the bag singing a great epic poem, the Awen shinning bright from his brow.

Together Elphin and the babe Bard Taliesin returned to Gwyddno's castle hall. The prince asked to see his father, excited to show him the bright child he had caught. He was feeling such love from Awen that he forgot the pain over his fathers’ constant disappointment that he had been hiding.
Upon entering the hall, Gwyddno asked Elphin if he had caught plenty of fish. The babe Taliesin was wrapped in fishing rags. He was not a salmon although he looked deceivingly so.

Elphin seemed so happy that Gwyddno had gained false hope. Elphin told him that he had gotten a much better catch and held up the child and exclaimed, "I caught a Poet!" as the rags fell away.

Gwyddno erupted in anger thinking that not only did his son catch no fish but now thinking he lost his mind. He shouted to leave his sight. It was then that the babe Taliesin spoke, as the Bards relate:

I am Taliesin
I sing perfect meter which will last till the world's end
I know why an echo answers again
I know why a cow has horns and why a woman loves a man
how many drops a shower of rain
I know why there are scales on fish and black feet on swans
I have been a blue salmon
a dog, a stag, a roebuck on the mountain
a stock, a spade, an axe in the hand
a buck, a bull, a stallion
upon a hill I was grown as grain
reaped and in the oven thrown
out of that roasting I fell to the ground
pecked up and swallowed by the black hen
I have been dead,
I have been alive,
I am Taliesin

The child had completed his transformation. Elphin had not caught what he set out to catch, as many of us discover when casting our own nets. We think we are looking for one thing but finding another. Elphin had not thought about a child just yet, but once he had Taliesin, he loved him. Elphin had his own pain but once he was in the presence of Awen, he saw his own gifts. If he had not had a life of careless and clumsy mistakes, he might have become arrogant. It was his pained life that made him a better man when he was in the light of Awen. He was able to see the good in contrast to the bad with the light of the bright Taliesin. The King came to love Taliesin and poetry filled the castle and beyond.