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"Awen yn codi o'r cudd ac yn cydio'r cwbl"
- Waldo Williams
(Awen arising from hiding and everything binding)


A horse glides
On the edge of dream;
A horse is ridden
On the edge of dream.

Does it glide or is it ridden?

The dream slides between.

Here she rides,
There she is hidden
Shrouded in gloom.

A flickering presence
Between Now and Dark Moon:
Waxing then waning
Ridden then not-ridden.

As light thins
A shadow passes,
A palpable darkness grows.

Orion rises from hidden skies,
 Hunter of the Winter Lands.



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