gwyn ap nudd
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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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You hold me close, gripping me in your firm embrace, O’ Lord of the Tylwyth Teg, you dip me through the pool of stars, and together, we fall, fall, fall. Spinning constellations, the maw of your Mother, we embrace the void, and the areas inbetween.
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O’ Gwyn ap Nudd, you lead me down the lane, bringing me towards the Otherworld. You guide my heart homeward, leading me by my hand, towards the forests and fields of Annwfn. Annwn, Annwfn, it lies in my heart, my soul homeward bound to the halls of the Otherworld.
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I gaze into the pool, clear and reflective, like a looking glass, mirroring myself back to me. Your hand rests ‘pon my shoulder, rugged fingers curling into my shirt. I rip my eyes from that watery looking glass, to your antler-crowned head. O’ Gwyn ap Nudd, White, son of Mist, you hold the looking glass,
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O’ Creiddlyad, Flower Maiden, you show me love is far more than just one. Sharing it, between Gwyn and Gwythir, showing me my love is immense. With your guidance, I embrace both my loves, holding them to my bosom, and cradling them safely.
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O’ Annwfn, the watery Otherworld, I am led to you, by hunting dogs and horns, led towards your watery depths. I step into your entrance, world shifting as I descend into the abyss, to come out into your sunlight. Gwyn, my Lord, leads my steps through your flowering fields, and I feel at peace.
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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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You fall, scorched by the Son, taken from us for now. I mourn, head laid low in sorrows, though hope stills in my heart, for I know you will return, hand in hand with your beloved, to come another day. The cycle swings in a circle, summer to winter, departure to return, and back again.
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I follow the hounds, red-eared, teeth bared. I bound through the brush, leaping like stag, and follow the call of your hunting horn. O’ Gwyn ap Nudd, Leader of the Wild Hunt, I dance through the trees with you, comforting the souls that come to your care, knowing when my time comes, I will journey
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Baying hounds, the sound of hoof upon earth, you ride through the night, gathering the souls of those whose time has come, and one day, O’ Lord of Annwn, you will come for me. My soul will be wrapped in your embrace, swaddled like a newborn babe, and carried to the Otherworld, to fields and
Little Rabbit's Glen 