O Bright-Handed One,

child of mystery and woven fate,

you who rose from curse and shadow

to stand in the sun’s unblinking gaze—

hear my voice.

You, whose spear flew true

through stone and treachery,

whose body once became the eagle

and learned the wind’s long language,

teach me the art of transformation.

Grant me the steadiness of your aim,

the patience to endure the weaving of trials,

the courage to step from hiding

when the hour of reckoning comes.

Lleu of the sure hand,

guardian of oaths and rightful place,

walk beside me in the turning seasons,

and let my deeds

shine as clear and unerring

as your golden light.