At the centre of ancient British mythology stands the cauldron: the womb of Ceridwen, Old Mother Universe, symbolising inspiration, wisdom and rebirth. What happens when it lies shattered, the universe fragmented, the world out of kilter? These questions, for a post-modern age imperilled by global climate change and endless warfare, were posed by my deity, Gwyn ap Nudd, a ruler of Annwn and a guardian of the cauldron. In this fragmentary collection of essays, stories and poems, which seeks to mirror the broken cauldron, I present my response.
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