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O’ cow-eyed Hera, Pangratis Potnia, Powerful Queen, Your eyes arch on the land light the sun breaching the horizon. Hera Kydrí, you guide my sandled steps, towards horizon that is your heart.
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O’ Mighty Gods Great of the Land You lead me to and fro. On white mare I ride, over giant’s back I glide, to lands new and fair. O’ Gods of Cymru, I hail thy names, and wish you well ahead. For nothing but the deepest dark would keep me from your stead.
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I run, I chase, I climb the tallest of mountains, I ford the heaviest of streams. Still, that goal, that hope for a brighter day, seems ever further. As I struggle in my strife, my mind reaches to you, and I call out, “Hope, for the fool you love most, won’t you stop?” And as
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I soar, on magpie’s wings above rocky cliffs and crashing waves, to the cave you dwell. In my heart, I am led to you, Afagddu, Very Black, a name forced upon you. I know your true name, Morfran, Sea Raven. And on sea-salted wings, I soar to you.
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Drip, drip, drip, you hold the bowl above my bowed head, catching droplets of snake’s milk. Deep, I am bound, by the entrails of the child I was, and you stand above, catching each drop. But a time comes, when I must face the venom, and give your hands a moment to rest. I will
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Under the light of the Blood Worm Moon, I swore a secret to myself. Forever, I would cherish you. With my Gods at my sides, to guide me when darkness comes, I endeavor to be the light that continues to brighten your life, as you brighten mine, dearest of my heart.
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Your breath ghosts across my lips, like the breeze of the sea, rough, yet comforting, chilling, and grounding. Black wings embrace me, a comorrant feather upon my breast, to guide me home, to your nest of outcasts.
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All it takes, is a simple word, a request to slow, and you bring your horse to a canter. I climb astride, firm in my faith that I am safe with the Great Queen, and together, we tred the line, between this world and Annwfn.
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O’ Gwyn, Great God of the Tylwyth Teg, You guide me through these cold times, embracing my soul with warmth, to ward off the cold of your kingdom. I harken forward, one snow-ladden step at a time, towards the next year.
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Morgen a Modron, dual, yet a singularity. You encompass that which is Life, tree, rock, stream, sea. You embody the breathing life of the land itself. You are what we wade, walk, wander through, and in your arms, I finally see.
Little Rabbit's Glen 