Creswell 2 - The Gathering

A Song that Amargin could've sung

Who but I knows the Secret of the Unhewn Dolmen
And the Holy Name of the One buried under the hill
Where the ravens reside…?

For I was there at the battle where Gwydion made known
That Sacred Word formed from the branch that was borne
Where the old ways fell…

When ring became middle and physic became fool,
The dog, the lapwing and the roebuck were exiled
From the Chalice of Trees…

And the sounds that speak the Holy Name are spoken no more,
Covered over just as the calendar of the letter PI was concealed,
Wrapped in Gwair’s blue chains…

And only seven return,
And only seven are spoken,
And where there were once nineteen:
Five and thirteen divided as months in the year
(and a day hidden from view),
There became twenty-two:
Seven and fifteen all hidden from view
And the most Sacred Day of the One under the hill
Never again told, never told…