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O’ Andraste, Winged goddess of Victory, you bring me towards success, carried on the wings of battle, facing my troubles with spear ready, and prepared to step forward into a new day. You shroud me in your wings, letting me mend from my strife, so I may face a new day, and carry on, spear
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O’ Morfran, your wings shade my heart, Sea Crow, guiding my shattered memories over the wind, letting them sail onward, to the recesses of my mind. You cup my fractured heart in your gnarled hands, and coax another beat. Beat, beat, beat.
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O’ Maponos, Great Son, Great Sun, Son of Matrona, mother to all, you strum your harp, and I sit at your knee, listening, embracing, feeling the warmth of your wisdom flowing into my heart.
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O’ Ing, Fertile Lord, Sower of the Seeds, You helped me gather till my fields, and plant the seeds of my growing masculinity. You stood by my side as I deligently watered, cared, and tended my growing crop. Now, as hair grows on my face, and my voice deepens, you stand by my side, guiding
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Even when I am distant, wandering amidst the past, mimicking your mind, focused on finding my Truth, you guide me back home. Wanderer, O’ Woden, you hold a place deep in my heart. I feel the beat of your staff on earth, in time with the rhythm in my chest. Your runes are my comfort,
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O’ Lord of Annwn, your hounds bay in my heart, leading my soul towards a brighter day. Your strength inspires me, and your wisdom makes me wise. For it you who I write my prayers to, who embraced my broken heart, and helped piece it back together, like fine china restored. O’ Gwyn ap Nudd,
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Strings plucked, gentle chords played, O’ Maponos, son of Matrona, you pluck at the strings of my soul, shaping me into my future self. Guiding me past those who have left this world, and teaching me to listen to their songs. You are in my heart, o’ Great Harpist, and your song serenades me, filling
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O’ Maponos, I strum my lyre for you, weaving words of wisdom, into gentle song. Your light shines upon my brow, filling my heart with hope, and you turn your flame against foes, shielding me from the pain of others.
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Under the hills, in the depths of sea, mirrored in our world, but whimsical and changed. Annfwn, I stare into your depths, touching the pools of your forests, and feel the spirit of the Otherworld fill me. Your King leads my hunt, across grassy moors and thick forests, hunting dogs baying their song. It is
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O’ Darkest Black, Morfran, close to my heart. I am safe in your shade, standing beneath your abnormal beauty like a flower beneath a tree. Beauty exudes from both our forms, but in a way that the world rejects. We are not Normal, Not Right, but beauty lies in our bones. Through embracing you, I
Little Rabbit's Glen 