Shores of the holy lake stretch afore. I hear the Glaston bells upon that isle that now stands in place of the misty land of Avalon.
The land of apples by the mists taken far.
Realm of the goddess with all her people in tow. Whence into the fey with all her people did you fly? By secret words and names hard cried, may I call you again the live in peace at the Chappel’s side.
Stony ring upon the tor, well would I walk the sacred way once more. The spiral winding path, the open sky my love, the very earth be the goddess altar room and floor.
Call the eldritch lightnings and the hiding mist be shorn, bring again the ancient oak to challenge Joseph’s staff-grown thorn.
Upon the glass-ringed Isle let the truth be brought to fore, though mightier was the iron cross in battle yet ever the bronzed cauldron may endure. For ever as the earth we lay, beneath beyond and below deep within all that lives and loves and grows. Though we be cut down, we heal and rise and grow.
Again let druid and monk share the sacred grove and shore, as once we did before the folly of men brought the path spirit before the flawed throne of men.
Goddess Ceridwen, lady and mother of us all, listen King among the stags with woad and antlered brow, let my words come to truth, listen light and shadow now unto my call. Part for us the veil, free us from the iron thrall, lady by your art raise the grey stone ring that might never truly fall.
There among the mist, rise now either black barge or pendragon’s funeral pall, let either come bedecked in garlands rich as a feasting hall. Let come the spring of Awen and Imbass past the long and bitter hold of winter frost and fall.
An if I find thee not within this life, once reborn again shall I seek your face. Ever my heart feels the fairy muted call, I shall come some time, at my wayward lagard pace unto thee oh Avalon, resting there in that close and far-off place.