Cynfyd Cerddwr's Page

Lemniscus

I am a primordial panting pregnant woman covered in furs.
I am memorable shrill sounding screams of birthing.
I am the growling eye rolling of slowly dilating.
I am desire of warm aquatic submersion.
I am a pressing sharp crown of fire.
I am deepest darkest pushing.
I am blowing in exhales.
I am true wonder.
I am mother.
I love.

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West Coast Trees - Battle of the Fifty-Three

I HAVE been in a multitude of shapes,
All of them branched and rooted forms…

I have been the letters of Broadleaf trees,
Mighty, strong and ancient holder of Gaia’s keys!
Ailanthus, who slowly walked the Iberian pass;
Alder of the Mountain, the Red, the Sitka, Thinleaf and White…
Ash of Foothills, Leatherleaf, Oregon Velvet, prince of Air;
Bay Laurel, of the twin effervescent fertility fruits;
Birch, primordial scribe of Paper and Water, guardian of Wind;
Black Hawthorn, of the deepest red and emerald dreams;
Black Locust, mysterious keeper of river secrets…
Blueblossom, with scented blooms echoing Avalon;
California Buckeye, now residing within the Summerlands,
California Hazel, with infinite travel to all dreamrealms;
California Pepper Tree, shaman and healer of the forest;
California and Western Redbud, mothers of watertight baskets;
California Sycamore, with playful femininity;
Cascara Buckthorn, also departed through the veil Aflame…
Cherry of Bitter, Choke, Hollyleaf, Klamath and Sierra, crying tears;
Christmasberry, now dwelling only within Mounds,
Coast Silktassle, Quinine, Wavyleaf, triple medicine-maker,
Cottonwood, of Black, of Fremont, of Quaking Aspen,
Elderberry, rainbows of Red, Blue and Pacific green,
Flannelbush, Fremontia, Magicians of the yellow flowers,
Golden Chinquapin, prophesier of nature’s secrets,
Hazelnut, bearer of Otherworldly Awen, holder of heads’ Fire;
Hop Tree, delicate dancer swaying her ochre flowers,
Maple, 8-pointed star-dweller, creating hidden Flames;
Mountain Dogwood, the speaker of Middle Earth;
Mountain Mahogany, of Curlleaf, Birchleaf, California and Desert;
Oak, the 11-realm Old One poet reflecting Fiery Earth;
Oregon Crabapple, the shy and mysterious one;
Pacific Dogwood, whose leaves point to mystic rivers;
Pacific Madrone, gnarled and leathery crone, burning passion;
Pacific Serviceberry, the priestess of the west;
Tanoak of the starry leaves, always remembered in the past;
Walnut of Hinds and California, nurturers of all souls;
Wax Myrtle, known as Pacific Bayberry, glowing greenish yellow;
Willow in Arroyo, Black, Pacific, Scouler, and Sitka, of all Waters;

I have been the numbers of the Conifers,
Great and silently swaying brave warriors!

California-Nutmeg, with multitudes of divine arms;
Cedar, of Alaska, Incense, Port, and Red, guarding Earth;
Cypress, branches swimming towards the Pacific;
Fir, the 11-lived majestically-giving eternal peacemaker;
Giant Sequoia, the grandfather of all time reflecting Land;
Hemlock, twins of Mountains and Western isles;
Juniper, four-pointed psychic bridge world connector;
Larch, storyteller of Subalpine and Western lands;
Pacific Yew, glorious queen of all that is innocent;
Pine, creator of the 25 mist-covered realms, all Watery;
Redwood, of sendings and scrying, projecting Fire;
Spruce of Brewer, Engelmann and Sitka;
Western Yew, of hidden secret knowledge forever lost;

Can you hear the silent ongoing Battle?
Seen on Water, on Earth, of Wind disastrous?
It is our duty as Guardians of the Forest,
To stand between our Tree Ancestors and souls lost!

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Tanllyd

Guess who she is.
Created before Mother Earth.
A creature so mighty,
she creates mountains,
and islands with her will.
She will not be a different age
From beginning to the end of time.
Her spread has caused
Worship, awe, and
Death.
She has no desire for
Destiny,
Yet she is the Creator and Destroyer!

She only pauses when
Meeting her sisters,
Stone and Sea.
Oh Deities! The night sky
Brightens with her presence.
Great her majesty,
her orange crown of power.

Without old age, without ages.
Yet creator of destiny,
And her passion burns,
Through seven periods of the seven realms!
None is older,
Yet she has no young.

And she is as wide as the
Core and crust of the earth,
Yet she was not born, and...
She has never been seen as a child.
She grows on land, emerges from the sea,
She is unstoppable.
She is unequaled.
She is ethereal.

She is from seven sacred directions,
Yet all places at once.
She commences her journey
from middle earth to all realms.
She is loud yet silent,
Bold, yet timid,
Angry, yet nurturing.

Greatest is her symbol on Mother Earth.
She is small, she is huge,
She arrives frequently...
In the heat of the sun,
In the coldness of the moon.

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Harbinger

In silence I seek wisdom,
In wisdom, vision,
In vision, eyes of a hawk,
With eyes of a hawk, objectivity,
In objectivity, solemnity,
In solemnity, talons of a dragon
With talons of a dragon, bravery,
In bravery, strength
In strength, horns of a stag,
With horns of a stag, ceremony,
In ceremony, dance,
In dance, the tail of a dolphin,
With the tail of a dolphin, joy,
In joy I seek silence.

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Initiation

I am a being between all realms.
I am a dream in my father's head.
I am the thirst for ancient texts.
I am a prayer heard only in darkness.
I am a runner in an invisible race.
I am the scribe to a long-dead king.
I am night terrors and fierce dreams.
I am the sacred soil of an Oak Forest.
I am a primordial fern along a riverbed.
I am a cricket singing in the night.
I am a crow circling above battle.
I am a ram with horns of might.
I am a pregnant woman clad in furs.
I am the eternal scream of birth.
I am the alpha of all beginnings.
I am all that is immediate.
I am!

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Dreaming

A breeze upon the sea was I,
Five words to describe why -
They say I was dreaming.
I was a smoky ember within fire;
I was a root deep in the earth;
I was a spotted moth in the air;
I was a dancing kelp in the water;
I was a fleeting idea in a spirit.

A being of the land am I,
Again five words to describe why -
They call me a dreamer.
I am the red of a singing robin;
I am the orange of a monarch butterfly;
I am the yellow of ripe lemons;
I am the green of polished jade;
I am the blue of glacier lakes;
I am the purple of wild fireweed;
I am the indigo of desert lightening.

A spirit of the sky, I will be,
Five more words to make you believe -
They say I will be dreamt.
I will become an Ancestor and shade,
I will be beyond the Veil,
I will jump through Cerridwen's cauldron,
I will be reborn to the earthly planes!

Oh, shining Sidhe,
Can I dwell forever in your crystal realm?
And succumb to the scent of your blue roses?

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Lord of Calan Mai

Bealtaine, Whitsun, Old Bhealltainn,
Cetshamain, Samhradh, La Baal Tinne,
Do not all my offspring call me on this day?
Is this not the day I created Arthur?
Is this not the day I call forth my Sidhe Tribes?
And they sing of three realms and seven directions.

Hear me blow my horn three times.
When will I gaze upon nature's enchantments?
When will the wildlings dance forth?
When will I command all Elementals?

You will see me at the crossroads.
You will see me in your chalice's reflection.
You will see me in a thousand ribbons.

Within the branches of the Great Tree,
You will find me at the Sacred Center,
In the Grove of all Worlds.
With me the Five Protectors:
Blackbird, Keeper of the Gate;
Stag of Seven Tines, Master of Time;
Ancient Owl, Crone of the Night;
Eagle, Lord of the Air, Eye of the Sun;
Salmon, Oldest and Wisest of the Wise;
Together, we dream all worlds.

Shimmering, I appear to you,
At this spinning of The Wheel,
An antlered boy, movements and hair wild,
Eyes full of endless heavens -
My serpent in one hand,
A Torq of gold in the other...
Calling to my triple mother,
All-Mother? Anu? Don?

On this day of thinning veils,
I will watch you, my young...
As you dance and couple ecstatically,
To eternal Fire within your Spirit.
Every man, an image of me,
Each woman, my eternal consort.

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Sidhe Song

I was a multiplicity of vibrations;
I was a prism within water,
I was life sprouting inside earth,
I was the dance powering fire,
I was a whisper carried by air.

I have been a shocking meteorite.
I have been a spoken symbol.
I have been a fleeting dream.
I have been the light within forests,
For seven-hundred seventy-seven millennia.

I have been a mist-filled bridge,
Dancing through the circle of seasons.

I have been a path: I have been a forgotten Ancestor:
I have been a Shining One dwelling within Mounds,
I have been a Spirit communicating from Elysium,
I have been a lived within the Isle of Apples,
I have been a shadow in the Underworld,
I have been a voice within walls of Iona,
I have been a keeper of all secrets.
Disguised only in mirrors...
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(A traditional-Welsh-style poem: Deibhidhe)

The Mistress of The Mantle

Druids, oh dru, wake and see
Evoking me is the key

Sidhe and Fili tell of me
Divination, prophesy

White staff of birch and willow
Through all vines my blood does flow

White skinned red-eared faery cow
Pale snake slithering below

Fish within the healing wells
Ravens’ nests and cockerels

Winter lambs and baby calves
Splitting Winter in two halves

Marriage to Bres, ending war
Birthing Ruadan, Luchar and Uar,

My sons wed sacred daughters
Blessing isles’ lands and waters

Giving you thoughts and healing
Poems, midwives, smithcrafting

Bride, Bridey, Brighid, Brigit,
Magick where three rivers split

Brigantia, Briggidda
Of love, mothering and awe

Brid, Brigh, Bhrishde, Breeshey, Ffraid
Crone, Mother, innocent Maid

Breo-saighead fiery arrow,
Bringing justice and sorrow

For nineteen days speak to me
Of rock, wind, water and tree

For nineteen nights stoke the fire
Dreams from flame, ever higher

For nineteen moons, scry the well
See me within, ever still

For nineteen suns, birth to man
I weave the cycle again

Cloak hanging upon Sun’s rays
With you ‘til the end of days

Oh my children, come to me
In the Summerlands to be
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Journey

Wandering singer of the forest am I
In my land where three
mountain ranges meet
Many have called me stranger
But at length called me a poet

I have been a recluse and existed within a redwood
I have traveled and lived
in a metal cocoon
I have dwelt under the winter stars
For a year and a day,
I wore nothing but rags

I have been a glowing coal
I have been a hidden mushroom
I have been the scent of heather
I have been a goblet of water

For 30 years in the
womb of unawareness
In state of blindness
But at length was a poet

I have seen a hawk
carry off a snake
I have stood within
ancient castle walls
I have dreamed others’ futures and pasts
I have built shelter in the desert

I am a ten-pointed star
I am a beginning and an end
I shall be until the end of the Summerlands
And it is not known whether I am song or magick

Learned Druid,
Can I memorize your words?
Or sing to you of trees?

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Dreamin' in my VW named Ceridwen

Druid am I to a global family
And my dreams are tied to the Seven Sisters
Travelers and teachers have called me strange
At length everyone recalls me in whispers

I was with Brighid in the highest realms,
And have traveled with Math to the Underworld
I have burned a secret flame for Ogma
I have read the words of the galactic overlords
I was in Cairo when the Son of Light built the pyramids
I expressed Awen when a wanderer among deserts
I was in the library of Alexandria before it became flame
I was a student of the inner and outer planets
I was witness to the millennial Battle of the Trees
I have walked through the maze of the Akashic tomb
I have been the scribe to those who do not speak

I am a cosmic child whose origin is not known
I strengthened my family through lifetimes of floods
I have obtained the muse from the Cauldron of Ceridwen
I have been bard of the letter to long-forgotten queens
I have been on the Great Tor within eons of Avalon

For a year and a day rolling through creation
I was fostered in the summery lands which forever call
I have been student to the redwood forest
I am able to learn from all creatures great and small

I shall be until the day of my rebirth
And it is not known if my spirit is alpha or omega

Then I was for 13 months
In the womb of the rolling metal Ceridwen
I was originally but a shadow
And at length they will whisper again

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Oberon Yrechwydd

Oberon, born of the Land of the Western Seas,
Of Tír-na-nog, of Tír N-aill of Mag Már
Host to a Multitude of Abundance
Gifted from the Red, Mediterranean and Pacific
Ecstatic over the multiplication of Spirits
Revealing and Manifesting great dreams on all Lands
Prophesizing steep paths while awake and asleep
When Waiting Is
He brings us Truth
From those of the Mounds
Carrying us to the highest Mountains of Beingness
Spoken without vanity or ego
Inaugurating us all as Gods
His existence forging our Silvery Souls
Causing intense, rapt, profound growth
For all Waters to be Unleashed
Until all awe and innocence is not under siege
Bringing us all to the beach of his Shore
While laughing about the Freedom of Forever
Thou is Thy is Thoust is
And telling us of Endless Nests
While showing us we are safe from Oceans of Dismay
Because we remember to invoke the Old Ones
Who speak of True Infinity, heard from North
Our ancestors, The Redwoods, the True Kings

And when I fail in age,
In the sore necessity of death,
May I not be smiling,
If I praise not Oberon

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Mother is Dying

Born of the Redwood Rainforest
Misty, majestic and megalithic
Tangible tall tetrahedrons
Goddesses’ glowing innocence
Climate control Goddess center
Ancient cord of coexistence

Green Mother hacked by parasites
From the Black Forest to Amazon
Equator, Ancient Sequoias
Constant rhythm falling timber

What kind of currency grows in salted soil?
What kind of need is fulfilled from flood plains?
If a tree dies in the forest does anybody care?
If a tree dies in the forest does anybody care?
Anybody hear the forest dying?
You are cutting down our Mother
You are cutting down our Mother

On Our Mother, a murdering spree
As we feral ones feel great fear
Cutters killing the Spirit Realm
Creating black holes that eat life
Murdering notes, music and sound
Forcing wild things forever gone

Green Mother hacked by parasites
From the Woodland to the Plains
Boreal, Evergreen, and Detritus
Constant rhythm falling timber
What kind of currency grows in salted soil?
What kind of need is fulfilled from flood plains?
If a tree dies in the forest does anybody care?
If a tree dies in the forest does anybody care?
Anybody hear the forest dying?
You are cutting down our Mother
You are cutting down our
You are cutting down
You are cutting
You are
You

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Closeness

In our reunion, trust
In our trust, laughter
In our laughter, silliness
In our silliness, wisdom
In our wisdom, vision
In our vision, Awen
In our Awen, magick
In our magick, creativity
In our creativity, manifestation
In our manifestation, reunion


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I

I am a
13 pointed
Crystalline effervescent
Star-chasing
Intergalactic
World-bridging Dragon with
Wings of green leathery scales and
Talons of gilded gold

My shadow is
Reality itself
Blazing behind my form in a
Billion colors
Screaming in ecstasy

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Unspoken

Unconditional Love...
...knows no boundaries
...asks for nothing
...flows from the river of Awen
...goes beyond all dimensions
...manifests all magick in all realms
...is unutterably anguished
...reaches towards eternity
...is eros tempered with logos

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Ferral Girl

Meditation of the Past

I was a flash of Spirit
I was a transcendental Sound
I was a shrill piercing Wind

Walker-Between Worlds in the Now

I am a wood-fueled Flame
I am the Fire in the Head
I am the lightening of Thought

Dream Traveler in the Future

I will be the vibration of Current
I am going to be the flow of Rivers
I will be the passion of Waves

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Equal Echoes

Teach me with your tears
Bring me beyond material
Past seashell
Bird, poet, creator

Let's peek behind the curtain of
Maya's tight embrace
We want the Gods to curl us
Into an egg of inclusion

Divine Animators
Hear our laughter
Feel us weep
As we yearn to see you again

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Triple Vessel

The Cauldron in my Belly

Awen evoked and centered upon fantasy
Tingly spine leading to Fire in the Head
Inky notes and melodies upon parchment

The Cauldron in my Heart

Awen turning strangers into Siblings
Flashing emotion in faraway dreams
Projecting, processing, possessing

The Cauldron in my Head

Awen catching me when stumbling
Hiking upwards upon an ancient Path
In the distance, within mists, I see Iona

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In the Beginning

Primordial, primal, and prehistoric description, when expressed.
Which was first, is it owls of night, or fierce hawks of day?
Or humans - when emerged; and on what continents?
Or under Earth's surface, what of shining Sidhe?
He who is a Creator swims within all Awen.
I wonder about multiplicity manifested,
In the morning the sun is chanting,
Teaching us of three spheres.
Ten-Pointed Existences.
Let them make circular orbit.
Whence come light, dark and grey?
Whence will the sigils become the way?
Whence is it that sunset flames with orange?
Whence is it that the land is fleckled with browns?
Whence is it that ancient seas are the moodiest of blue?
How is it not seen that all Spirit is born of the Three Realms?
Nothing exists past three cauldrons of three Cears of three Planes.