Into the Unknown

Somewhere/Godspouse

Somewhere, amid dark blues and silvery greys, a deity wakes up, his hair unruly and untamed, a mass of auburn and dark chocolate curls, his eyes green as emeralds in the grass of early spring.

He straightens his back, his body still numb after a long sleep of many years. Slowly he walks, his movements languid and slow. He relishes in moving, yet he is still half dreaming.

On the threshold, he looks back. Wistfully, he smiles. The night has been a long one, but the nights are always long for the Wild Hunt.

Each Nos Calan Gaeaf he finds someone, each Calan Mai he weds, and it doesn’t matter who it is. He needs a godspouse, as it is the law of the gods. Having priests and prophets is not enough. You always need someone as dedicated as a priest, and as close as a spouse – to love, honour, teach and protect.

He sighs. There, in his bed of stormy blues and silvery greys, someone is still asleep, his hair standing out in the semi darkness, golden-blond, reddish golden, as a new born Phoenix or a tamed flame. The new one.

He has many of them, his earthbound family, his children, his students, his godspouses. My flock, he thinks, and smiles. My own. All different. As different as sun and moon, fire and rain. Still his own. Forever.

Somewhere, amid dark blues and silvery greys, a deity wakes up, his hair unruly and untamed, a mass of auburn and dark chocolate curls, his eyes green as emeralds in the grass of early spring.

Beyond the woods

Beyond the woods I will look for you, beyond the woods of memory, pain and regret.

Beyond the woods I will search, tirelessly, endlessly, hopelessly. Beyond the woods of doubts, fears and sighs.

Beyond the woods I will wander, in the dark, in the mists, in the shadows. Beyond the woods of forgotten tales, songs and legends.

Beyond the woods I will emerge, spotless, blameless, renewed. Beyond the woods of opinions, mentions and views.

Beyond the woods I will find you, my king, my mentor, my Lord. Beyond the woods of thorns, spikes and brambles.

Beyond the woods I will set you free, by oak, ash and thorn. Beyond the woods of ivy, vine and hawthorn.

Beyond the woods I will remain, bright, glorious, shining. Beyond the woods of the past, gone and forgotten.

Beyond the woods.

Alone.

Yet with you.

Dare

If you find yourself on the edge of a cliff,
The only thing I can say is – jump.
If you find yourself on the banks of a wide river,
The only thing I can say is – dive.
If you find yourself in a place unknown,
The only thing I can say is – dare.

Dare.

No one but you has the power. No one but you has the strength to overcome, bend, conquer and heal. Hear my voice, child, hear and follow.

Dare.

Dare to be different, to be someone else, dare to be yourself. Make it ring, make it bright and clear. Make it your only statement.

Dare.

Who has the power to bring you down? What stops you from being you? Do not look to the others to make the choice, do not ask their opinion.

Dare.

When the night comes, call me. Call me – a single candle will suffice. Call me and fly with me. Leave the past behind.

Dare.

Let it go.

I looked for you

In the depths I looked for you, and in the forest green. In the valleys of emerald grass, and in the flowering fields.

I sang to the trees and the rivers, I crossed sands and marshes, I traversed oceans and glades.

I flew over the mountains and hills, I glided on the wings of the dove, eagle, swan and raven, I called with the voices of the nightingale, lark and linnet, finch and robinet.

I weaved tales of golden straw, and lace of silvery moonbeams. I painted the velvet skies with diamond stars and planted roses of blood red in the crispy snow of winter.

I looked for you everywhere, and all I knew simply wasn’t enough.

Little did I know that everything I did was done because you were looking for me too.

Call me Gwyn

I have many faces and many names. I have lived so many lives, I walked many roads. I have been a multitude of shapes, I have worn many a guise.

Call me Gwyn.

My eyes have seen so much, my voice has sung many songs. I have told many a tale, I have fought many a war. Many battles I have gone through.

Call me Gwyn.

I have fallen in love with many a maiden, many a heart have I won. I have protected and served many a king, many a knight have I outwitted.

Call me Gwyn.

I have worn many rich cloaks, many a beggar’s coat. I have been a bard, and I have been a king. I have worked many a field and broken many a sword.

Call me Gwyn.

I have healed many a wound, many a great healer have I taught. Many a heart have I saved. I have been where the pain was, and where the dead rule the day.

Call me Gwyn.

This time is my time, and I walk this earth as freely as ever before. Those who are different, those who are misunderstood and mistaken, unsung and unwept, are mine.

Call me Gwyn.

My face may be different, but I speak through my children. My voice may be altered, but my words still echo in the hearts of those who are trying to find their way home.

When you think how to call me, call me Gwyn.

I am here

I am here. Always here. As the sun rises and sets, as the moon comes out. I am here.

My love is always there. For all my children who choose the long way home, for all my children who prefer thorns of silver to silks of gold. My love is always there.

My eyes are ever watchful. Piercing the clouds and forests, glades and towns, looking out for those who look for me. My eyes are ever watchful.

My voice ever calls out. To those who choose a solitary path and those who need the comfort of a company to survive. My voice ever calls out.

My heart is ever bleeding. For all my children who face pain, despair and loneliness, for all my children whose hearts are not of this world but of mine. My heart is ever bleeding.

My sword is always true. It cuts the cords of jealousy and hate, it keeps the evil away. My sword is always true.

My stars are never out. They shine for those who want to find their way home. They shine for those who need to know they are wanted. Loved. Needed. Cared for. My stars are never out.

Gwyn ap Nudd ydw i. My word is never broken, my spirit is always free.

Gwyn ap Nudd ydw i. Father, mentor, lover, protector, king and bard, magician am I. I am all the things you need and more.

Gwyn ap Nudd ydw i. And I will be there – for I have been before.

Fill my weary head with visions

Fill my weary head with visions,

My soul – with peace.

Fill my exhausted mind with songs,

My heart – with faith.

Fill my broken body with strength,

My sight – with clarity.

Fill my shattered dreams with light,

My nights – with rest.

Fill my divided spirit with unity,

My life – with meaning.

Fill my unwritten songs with joy,

My days – with wisdom.

Fill my unclaimed heart with bliss,

My thoughts – with knowledge.

My Lord Gwyn of the thousand faces,

I ask only what is right in your eyes,

And nothing more.

Be it as you see fit, my Lord Gwyn,

For your wisdom exceeds mine.

Here I stand, Lord

Here I stand, Lord, humbled by your presence. Your radiance blinds me, and I cannot look into your face. Your light tears me apart, and yet it heals my wounds.

Here I stand, Lord, hands tied, tongue numb. No speech is good enough,no words can describe what I feel.

Here I stand, Lord, too ordinary, too plain- and yet you are here, and the world spins faster.

Here I stand, Lord, and everything changes in a minute, like it would in a fairy tale, yet it is no fairy tale.

Here I stand, Lord, and nothing is certain except you. I came here to see you, yet I dare not. I came here to take vows – and I dare not, for what good can I do for the Faery king?

Here I stand, Lord, be kind. Be merciful and forgiving for by your will I have come. It was your will that dragged me through fire, water and storms, through brambles and thorns, through forests and lakes.

Here I stand, Lord, and my mind races. I see you, when the light dims, I see you when you wish to be seen. Your eyes pierce the darkness, your smile lights up the sky.

Here I stand, Lord- and that won’t change, for I wouldn’t have made it without you. You have carried me when I stumbled, you gave me strength when I had none.

Here I stand, Lord- and my vows are renewed by coming here, to your golden halls, to your misty paths, your standing stones.

Here I stand, Lord- for you have called. You summoned me and I came, for my voice is yours, as are my words.

Here I stand, Lord- and here I will remain as long as you want me.

When he calls

When he calls, the day darkens. Clouds gather, and the northern wind comes.

When he calls, the true hearts answer. The air is full of horses cantering, galloping, neighing. Silver bells ring in the distance only to grow quiter upon approaching.

When he calls, nothing else can matter. Nothing else does, nothing ever will. His voice silences the voices and noises of the wide world, that looks to shut out the world beyond.

When he calls, the time comes to leave the past behind. Yesterday’s wine is stale and bitter, and the altar candles are out and smoking. The remembrances are done with, the dreams are nothing but ghostly shadows on the floor.

When he calls, we answer. Poet and king, minstrel and knight, fair lady and a hag – everybody follows, everybody has his own place in the Hunt.

When he calls, the earth stops for a moment, just to fly off again. Minds stop racing, hearts are no longer trying to outrun minds.

When he calls, the world listens. No king has more presence, no wise man has more knowledge, no lover has more passion, than the one who rules the world beyond.

When he calls, the Fae come out of the hollow hills – the Fair folk, the Tylwyth Teg, the Good neighbours, the Shining ones. In the fields they dance, and their music is unearthly.

When he calls, no sleep is found, no peace, no rest: the Hunt never stops, and nothing can hold it. No mortal mind can fathom it, no mortal heart can withstand its might.

When he calls, everything changes. Towers collapse, bridges burn, frontiers crumble. He brings together what was separate, he separates what was not meant to be whole. He is just, and his judgement is severe.

When he calls, you better answer, for he may not call again- the Hunt never stops, and its master is too proud to ask twice.

Sometimes

Sometimes,talking to you is like traversing the wide woods. You are infinite, endless, beguiling, entrancing- with millions of voices you call, with thousands you answer.

Sometimes, walking with you is like breathing freely after suffocating for days on end. Eyes open wide, lungs open up, and all the clutter disappears. Calmness reigns where nervousness once ruled, and the world stops.

Sometimes, yearning for you is like trying to make way through brambles. Thorns bite into the skin, piercing, wounding, like the hawthorn and blackthorn labyrinths in the woods. There, where nothing is certain, you stand. Unchanged. Forever young and forever wise, your eyes twinkling.

Sometimes, serving you is like guessing, solving riddles. Gently you speak, yet there is an unmistakable tinge of sadness in your voice, as if you know how hard it is at times. Soothing is your voice, yet silver and steel run in it, like the ores in the deep mines – always there, but never on the surface.

Sometimes, understanding you is like reading an ancient book. Winding is the script, long are the words. Mind stumbles on each page, dazzled by the magnificence and power in the writing

Sometimes, waiting for you is like standing on the edge of the abyss, trying to see through the fog,reach through the mist. Nothing is clear enough, yet it calls, it lures, it enchants- and leaves you wandering. It keeps you teetering on the brink, at the edge, on the boundary – forever.

Sometimes,following you is like running through the vast fields in the storm. The grasses are high, drenched with rain, as are the clothes of the one who runs. All the world is against you, yet you run. All the world is against you, yet you follow the call.

It is hard, my Lord Gwyn, being with you – but nothing is more precious or worth doing.

Hail, hail, the King of the Golden Halls,

Hail, hail, the Lord of the mists and ways,

Hail, hail, the Master of the Hunt,

Hail, hail, the one who sees all!