For Gwyn on Calan Mai
There is a place where tears come from
that reminds me of You
and here we are
on the day of Your death.
The death You are fated to die every year.
Every year a part of me dies with You
like a tear to be buried
in that place
of cold stone
to rise again
like spring water
on the day of Your return.
We will rise again from burial.
We will repair what has been destroyed,
by the deepest Annuvian magic turn sorrow into joy.
Day five of Twelve Days of Devotion to Gwyn ap Nudd
This fifth day
I consider Your battle.
How Calan Mai seems far away
but already we’re both counting down
the moons, the weeks, the days.
How every year you face
fighting a battle you cannot win,
how every year you have shown up anyway
for the seasons must turn, the ford must be crossed,
from death new life won, flowers from pain.
I think with shame of the times
I have failed to show up.
There will be no more excuses this year.
The Sanctuary of Vindos 