Last Post

There will be no future blogs on this site.

Some material will be archived at awenydd.cymru 

Future blogs will be on my re-configured Hill’s Chronicle blog (now Cronicl yr Awen) or on the devotional pages of The Horse Goddess or The Guardian of the Well

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Rules … Lessons … Revelations

Devotional Diary : SHRINE  ~>

{My Devotional Diary is not quite an open blog, but nor is it a private Book of Shadows. For anyone who may come across it, there are not arguments designed to convince or define a form a worship beyond my own devotional practice. What is there is rather public witness to that practice which is informed by historical research, shared insights and such revelations as are provided for me. If you  find your way there perhaps it might be a revelation for you too?}

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Exploring Eleri

 

Cardian Bay Rivers
Rivers Flowing into Cardigan Bay illustrated with their attendant Nymphs – Map by Wm Hole from Michael Drayton’s Poly-Olbion (1612)

 

Following the preceding survey of recent history of the drainage of the bog and the diversion of Eleri, this page will be more of an an exploration on the ground, but also containing some glimpses of the more remote history which led to the creation of the landscape as it is now.

After the last Ice Age ……  READ MORE at ~~~~~> The Guardian of the Well  

 

 


 

 

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Vigil for the Dark Moon after Samhain

Words spoken as part of my Dark Moon devotion to mark the passing of Rhiannon:

By Orion’s light
At the dark of the Moon
Now the hawthorn tree is bare

As the Hunter’s spoor is laid tonight
A shadow passes through the veil
Of Annwfn on a Grey Mare.

Rigantona, roses wither on your altar;
As winter falls across the land
I’ll keep your vigil here.

More detail in my Devotional Diary~>

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Elder Mother

 

{a continuation of Rhiannon’s Apples}

 

Elder Tree

Dark elderberries hang on twisted boughs
Unpicked and shrivelled,
Bare twigs twist to point the way
That turns upon itself a shadow veil
Shielding the world she is leaving behind
As she rides the grey mare
Fading to grey mist for a season
Seeking her fair form far away
Where he expects her, her shadow lord
Conjuring the woven ways
Through mists of his own making
Shaping a path through shapeless drifts
Each one receding through layers of world
Intricately dispersing
Wider to bring her to world’s end:
To not-world’s becoming.

…*…

Another watches her go as strewn leaves lie
On sodden forest floors
Bereft of shelter, mysteries
Of dappled green depth emptying.

Samahin Cover
Samhain Scene : from a cover for The Waxing Moon by Pat Blackmore


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