Month: May 2017

My Secret Self

How long it took to make him My secret self and I To stabilise and raise him That he might touch his sky Then watching as he made the world In image of his days gone by ➰ The jewelled world was wonderful For secret self and me So far removed from vulnerable Was where we went to be But jewel is as dual … Read More My Secret Self

Black…

Gradient of life beyond life

Small white flowers Rich with life but short in prime Draw the eye beyond their garlic breath To where the river flows ➰ Pastel greens, translucent, which Display their hold on nothing Yet are a cup for beauty Shimmer on imagined, naked skin ➰ As we, entranced by life beyond life Forget our fear, to tread dry mud And leaving garments, cast Our fate … Read More Gradient of life beyond life

May Day in Glastonbury

Originally posted on Sue Vincent's Daily Echo:
Sunday morning, Beltane, the first morning of May…and we were in Glastonbury. After a leisurely breakfast, Alienora prepared for her role as Priestess in the morning’s proceedings. We would meet the others in the town for the start of the day’s festivities. By the time we arrived in the town, the place was already buzzing. The…

Innocents

Originally posted on Sue Vincent's Daily Echo:
No false ideal can be a true defence When evil, as a spoiled and angry child Can break and shatter childhood innocence, To be, by any feeling heart, reviled. No hope can find its birth in violence As death’s own purpose is itself defiled. The earth is scarred by Man’s insanity And empty arms hold only…

Auld acquaintance…

Originally posted on Sue Vincent's Daily Echo:
We had stopped for cider at the Apple Tree on the way,  which is not quite a tradition yet, but we are working on that. It is Somerset, after all, and the Orchard Pig is brewed locally. There was chocolate cake too… just  by way of a late lunch. We were on our way to Glastonbury…

Uniform?

How uniform, so uniform Our daily tread extrudes Upon a stuff compliant To deeper wishes viewed — How uniform, so uniform But do I ever see Fragility of matter’s grip Beneath the ground that walks on me? — ©Stephen Tanham

Flight of the Seer IX…

Originally posted on The Silent Eye:
* Shortly after the ‘Leaf and Flame’ event in 2016, the outline for, The Feathered Seer, workshop took shape for us on the edge of an ancient necropolis overlooking Big Moor. The seeing that day, be it courtesy of the seasonal sun light, or more esoteric manifestations, allowed us to work out one possible function of the Barbrook…

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The Feathered Seer – Part 3 (No. Really. The Feathered Seer!)

Originally posted on Stepping Stones:
Nine Ladies Stone Circle, Stanton MoorCopyright: Graham Dunn During the exploration session on Spirit Animals, presented during The Silent Eye (a modern mystery school) “Leaf and Flame: the Foliate Man” weekend in 2016, one of the companions enquired about “Shape-shifting”. Since this was outside the scope of the discussion, the concept was briefly addressed without going into any real…

Three Spirit Animals in a week

Originally posted on Chronicles of an Orange-Haired Woman!:
The Fox, I have already shared. Yesterday, as I walked Jumble down the track, instinct drew me to the gate at the end (two down from the Fox Gate). I stopped. A deer stood before me, delicate and beautiful in long green grass, powered by sunlight. The Hart. So apt. Another, and indeed the first, of…

In A Vase On Monday – Simply Heavenly

Originally posted on Eliza Waters:
Ages ago, when I was in my late teens, I walked down a sidewalk along a tall wooden fence. I smelled the most heavenly scent and had to know what produced it. I boosted myself up to peer over the top and spread below me was a huge carpet of lily of the valley (Convallaria majalis). I pledged then and there…

Falling into Step…

Originally posted on Stuart France:
* … “Fiachna, son of Conga,” shouted Daatho, “there is a man here who wants a word with you.” “Let him who wants a word with me, fall into step with me, replied Fiachna. “Spoken like a true champion,” said Fin, falling into step alongside the old man. “A name before a word,” said Fiachna. “I am Fin, son…

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