Kestrel's Nest

The First Year - Summer
Beltane - Lammas 2003

This period was not a particularly productive one for my poetry. I was too wrapped up in my psychotherapy course and my work for The Druid Network to give much thought to it.

Y Corryn Glân

Y Corryn Glân

My only attempt at a song. I'm not quite sure how successful it is. Anyone want to put some music to it? For those unfamiliar with Welsh (which I'm trying to learn!) Y Corryn Glân is the Sacred Spider, the Weaver of the Web.

O Corryn Glân! O Corryn Glân!
      Oh weave your web so free;
Oh let the spiral turn and turn
      And weave a love for me.

‘Twas in the hills one autumn day
      As I did wander long
I saw a spider turn and turn
      And build her web so strong.
I thought then of the Weaver true
      And to Her I turned my song.


Oh let his love be brave and strong
      Just like your Web so bold.
Oh let his love be soft and warm
      To save from winter’s cold.
Oh let his love be firm and true
      To last ‘til we grow old.


Your Web is over all the land
      And ties us all as one,
So let my love be strong and true
      ‘Til all my days are done.
Let my love last through all my lives
      ‘Til ends the Moon and Sun.


© Angela Grant (Kestrel) 5/5/2003

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I had written down the first line of this back in early January and then found it again one morning as I was preparing to go to my psychotherapy course weekend. What follows came into my head at that point. Curiously the whole weekend turned out to be about connections. Even more curiously a couple of days later I was at Stonehenge at dawn to celebrate Midsummer. As we waited for the Sun to appear through the mist over the Hele Stone I could hear the larks singing their hearts out....
Published on The Druid Network website.

Over my head a lark sang
Beauteous in the clear sky,
Reminding me of all I love in life;
The laughter of children;
The music of a moving stream;
The colours of spring flowers;
The taste of honey on my lips;
The deep blackness of a winter pool;
The quivering of a kestrel’s wing;
The visual music of a butterfly;
The bee’s sonorous drone;
Singers round an autumn fire…

And when I think of these
I give praise to the Goddess
Whose web is over all the world
Binding all things together
In a flowing stream.

For I cannot be alone
When I feel the web.
For each horror in the world
      Is my horror;
Each love in the world
      Is my love;
Each striving, each blessing
      Is mine and everyone’s.
For what touches the living rock
      Touches me;
What burns the living forest
      Burns me;
What kills, kills me;
What loves, loves me;
What binds, binds me.
The living web is all around
From the furthest star
To the tiniest creature;
Man, beast, rock, tree
Are all entwined;
All are one
And will meet the future

© Angela Grant (Kestrel) 21/6/2003

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This came about when I felt I was in danger of being rejected by a friend because she found out my personal history, which was no secret. It hurt. In the end she came round and we are friends again and I feel the friendship was probably strengthened by the occurence.

What am I?
      Am I a strange beast you are wary of?
      Am I a monster?
      Am I a creature to frighten erring children?
No, I am me,
      I am human,
      I feel as you do,
      I suffer as you do,
      I hurt as you do.

Yet you are afraid of me.
      I upset your nice idea of the world.
      I don’t fit the pattern of your reality.
Well, that’s tough,
      I exist,
      I am proud,
      I will continue to exist, to be around.

Will you shun me?
      Talk with others about me behind my back?
      Let a poison spread of false half-truths?
Just because you don’t understand
      What drives me,
      What power of the spirit has sustained me
      To live through a hell of denial,
      To become free,
      To become me.

Would you have me go back to my pain
      Just to keep your reality intact?
Then I will disappoint you
      Because here I am
      And here I stay.

This soul, this flame of divinity
      Will continue to burn
      And I will be me, to link with the web of life.
If you choose not to link with me
      That choice will be yours
      And yours alone….

© Angela Grant (Kestrel) 6/7/2003