I was a grain of wheat
In Cerridwen’s belly
That grew into a man.
Gwion Bach devoured,
Reborn with a radiant brow.
 
She sought to inspire
And I was inspired.
Inspiration meant for another,
But fate had other plans.
 
I stirred her Cauldron of Awen,
Its contents burned
Opening eyes and mind.
 
I was there
When the universe
Was a white-hot grain,
And will be there
When it is an ice-cold cloud
Spread thin by time.
 
I was there
In the valley of Rhun,
Before the years had been numbered,
By the shores of sunlight
When the fair ones
First gazed upon the trees.

Đwerȝaz, Đwerȝar Föðr, Twergar Fater, Dvergar Föðr, Craftsman, smith; miner, Born of Alβiz Alfar Föðr, Apprentice to his […]