To Gwyn:
Hunter of leaves,
Lover of the seasons
Take my wild soul
To the moon in the river.
As centuries take flight
On carrion wings
Marshall their magic,
Let truth be seen.
Through wind blown years,
Leaf strewn vision
And a harvest of tears
Let truth be spoken.

So Mote It Be!
“Take my wild soul/to the moon in the river” is lyrical and compelling. Speaking one’s truth to the moon in the river sounds deeply magical. A powerful ritual seems to be taking place that involves tears and what lies beyond them. Charlotte
Gwyn Ap Nudd should make you their official Bard.