Chief of the Tuatha De Danann

I went walking the footpath between life and death. It was there I first discerned the strum of a harp. I hastened my step, tracing wooded trail with stealth` as the resonant resplendent tones grew clear and sharp. I quickly came upon a figure the size of a mountain. He carried a manful bearing even as he played. Smiling at me like he knew me, I felt he was my champion. “I am the Dagda, god of life and death,” he conveyed. “I rule agriculture, fertility, seasons and magic.” Next to him was a cauldron of plenty along with his club of life or death, and his eyes stored memories both joyous and tragic. Humbled by this good, great god of Ireland, I felt like a flub. “Do not trouble yourself,” he paused and said with wisdom. “You are always most welcome, here in my kingdom.”