Samhain Dreamings )O(...

The cold, cold hand of Lady Death

Beckoning from beneath her spectre dress

Fingers like bone, skin cold as stone

Knock, knock... twice if you hear

Upon thy door that keepes our Dreams from wake

But dear one, if she doth knock thrice

Another must cross to the Other-Side

 Hand in hand, fingers entwined

 Through the Veils , the door opens Beyond

With the cold, cold hand of Lady Death.

Jewelled rings glitter, nestled amongst her chattering bones

Bean Sidhe, her breath doth call with a deathly moan

Hallowed be thy crossing Beyond.

Hark, dear one... theyr is another knock at the door

It is Life, her warm hand grasps Death’s in hers

Fingernails no longer a blood, blood red

Warm once again

Life arisen from Dead

Across the threshold to begin once more

The journey, the adventure within

Another chance to Experience  

The Beauty and Wonders they have called Life.

The Rainbow-Bird Lady, the olde shaman-woman of Rainbow Beach.

Easter weekend 2012, Saturday night and a full moon.  Camping on the shore of Rainbow Beach; Isis athame was set into the ground, over my collected beach pretties.  Her sword aimed towards the ocean where the Aegyptian mariners of ancient times came to shore where we slept, using the beach as a safe place to land theyr trade ships following the giant rainbow sand dunes as theyr land markers.  That night came the Dream that was no Dream...

She was walking across the flat, damp sand towards me.  The black sand glittered in the full moon light, bright enough to see like the day.  I must have gone far, because I had reached the rainbow dunes themselves quite the few kilometres away. Perhaps this was her home, as she welcomed me like it was.  I approached her as she glided across the beach shore, both delighted with the very welcoming and knowing of each other’s spirit as a shifter-kind.  Perhaps in fact I believe that just maybe, I was exploring this night in the feathered form.  A new playground to practice my beloved skills and this is how we did indeed meet, she was delighted at another kind she told me.

Glittering black sand, the brightest of bright moons and the ocean with wild waves crashing at my back... Indeed it was primal and native, the landscape setting of that fated night. 

The Lady she was a Shaman, a medicine woman of ranking and prestige.  Her honour was shown upon her face, she was bejewelled to display her shifter self in the human form.  She was a white woman like I, but resided in spirit form as a guardian of Rainbow Beach.  Strange I thought, but a question she never answered why she was not aboriginal or aegyptian.  She indulged my other curiosities with as much verve as my own, we loved it just as much as the other, touching each other to see this was real, she was joyful that another like herselfe had come to play on her shore.

A little plump, very wizened and rather wrinkled with age her aura sent off an energy of ancientness and timelessness, love for the Land and protection of the Sacredness that Is.  Covering her nakedness was a roughly hewn tunic-like attire, not that this was what interested me and drew me closer mesmerizingly.  It was not her grey hair, this not overly long but wild and free just like her, she could have been mistaken as your every day grandmother figure upon the street.  What set her apart and what has stuck with me with wonder and impressiveness was her face.   Upon her cheeks looked like a mask in the distance, but looking closer a mask it most definitely was not.  Bright feathers of rainbows were set into her cheeks with little gold caplets of jewels.  Golden studs on her upper cheeks all in a row, off each piece of gold hung a little coloured rainbow bird feather, this was four deep she let me see close up and touch.  I was amazed and so happy to see this never before seen wonderful thing to me.

 It was her bejewelled feathery mask that I did love the most, such a thing I could not have envisioned or made up myselfe.  The best thing was, she loved that I loved it.  This meeting was not a healing for me, nor a spirit guide or anything such. It was two strangers meeting on the beach for the first time with mutual wonderment and gladness at the ability of doing so.

 

The Dew-Drop Fairy Lessons...)O(

Have you ever as a childe seen a faery?..  I wondered as an observant faery watcher when I was knee high, if they could see me.   Secretly in the early hours of dawn, and to my amazement how any adults did not notice (but mayhap they did, I was too busy watching something else!) a little girl would sneak out of her bed, not every morning mind you, to perch herself comfortably on the back steps of her house solely to witness the dew drop fairy’s (yes, these I do call fairy!) early morning work.   

  I remember this was a fairly regular event for me as an innocent childe, but as I grew into age I no longer can think how this ended.  I have a feeling that it faded away with me and not them, the visions of nature’s way of caretaking perhaps absorbed enough to be taught and passed on so that I may know it is with regularity and care that it takes all types look after our Mother Earth.  The dew drop fairy I say, would be the reason also my childhood photos are mainly of me watering all kinds of gardens, especially my great-grandfathers... I think I was more than a little intrigued and quite at home doing so.   It was like a photographic replay of my special secret teachings... because the dew drop fairy’s, I recall all looked like tiny me’s!

          Demure and petite, and wearing tiny red dresses with big, white spots.  Short, ringleted hair like myne at the time and always with a silver watering can carried in theyr hand.   Funny, because sometimes I am found watering the garden in something pretty these days also.  These tiny, little fairy’s (I do not remember how many) were always already theyr before I snuck out, content with letting me watch.  One even waved to me one day, perhaps the reason why I wave hello to beings and spirits these days when I come across one.. Tis a polite habit to have manners, especially dealing with so-called mythical beings like the faery, albeit one that may surely give you the reputation of being rather strange on this side.
            Like other events and crazy things that do and have occurred to me throughout this life, I have no idea why I got such a wonderful display to witness as a girl-childe.  To see rows of identical little fairy in red and white polka dresses, silver water can in hand bending over to water the grass and form the dew in the morning that you see upon waking, should have stayed perhaps a dream of nonsensical childhood frivolities.  But not for me!..  Alvin my elfin guardian friend, showed me once more of this very early and at that time forgotten memory, after he first appeared.   To remind me I suppose, that it is my duty to also care for the Earth as the dew-drop fairy’s do.  I think that I may have had the best teachers throughout my life to fulfil my duties that are very muchly needed...

So, take Care of Mother Earth please people, it is too hard work for the faery’s to clean our messes, because they have far better things to do like form the dew in the morne that your toes and feet love to feel on the grass and bring moisture to the ground that provides you nourishment in gardens and a planet that is not dry and barren.  Thank you dew drop fairy’s for teaching me how to love caring for the Earth, be water conscious and remember to water my gardens.. plus, I love nothing better than the feel of wet grass under my toes as I let the chickens out of theyr coop!

  You just never know how it all really works!

The Gods are also Evolving, are you Ready to Step Up and take Theyr Role?..

I Hear Thunder, I See Lightning... The Gods are wanting your Attention!  Listen to the rain Drum, its Scent is the Essence of the Divine and Sublime )0(...

                Hystory and mythology tells wonderous tales of magickal beginnings of the Gods and Goddesses.  Beings created amongst the chaos of cosmic order, and how they came to be.  Legends of the olde times and the Ancient Ones tell us a story.  Parables with meanings within.  Lessons when we are trying to make order out of chaos, when we are creating our own life.  We are all a God or Goddess of our own worlde!...

                The Ancient Ones, the Gods and Goddesses are many in theyr variety, but in essence They are all but the same and strike a similar chord. Theyr are many religions, beliefs and customs throughout the worlde since the Dawn of Time and man first was and broke ties.  Always yearning for something greater, something more than themselves and something that explains themselves. 

                But we have always known them, felt them, seen theyr signs and omens in nature and upon listening to them, have found that our own life is as wonderous and chaotic as the Gods and Goddesses themselves.  But forewarned is forewarmed, I say! 

                Whether you are a Magickal person or not, who the Gods and Goddesses are will also strike a similar chord in you at times.  Theyr stories of Becoming, may guide you within your own hero's journey, Theyr tales may be the same as yours.  Symbols and Names of the Gods and Goddesses will empower the Magick that makes you and is made by you.  You may find that They already know you.  Once the Gods and Goddesses are Awakened, They can also kindle Theyr spark of Divine within you.  That's when the Magick Happens! Understanding that the Gods and Goddesses are not only All, but One... They are always You!

And so they say; 

As Above, So Below.  

               

The Precessions are Turning

The Worlde is still forming

Never an End,

Tis the Circle of Life.

The Gods are coming

I can hear Them calling.

Closer and Closer, Around and Around

Tis the Circle of Life.

Planets forming, Worldes colliding

Visions stand with biding.

Ask what it is you Seek

Is it Love, Is it greed, Is it Life, Is it Peace?

Children of the Gods,

Your Ears have pricked up,

Your Heart now palpitates,

Your Senses become clearer...

It is your Parents coming Nearer.

)O(



The symphony of the Winged Ones...

Colours In The Sky.

                                                                                                   

She flutters her wings and says her goodbyes

With her back turned against the dark, drab sky

Mischief twitches at her lips

And turns into a smile.

Her faded eyes are clouded over,

Wearing the remnants of a tattered mind.

Feeling lost and alone, confused between worlds,

She makes her choice,

And blindly feels the way.

The skies open up in into a cavernous rage;

It roars at the girl who dares choose a different way...

Her wings feel light, colours fill the sky

Her eyes open wide, staring with fright.

So long ago she remembered theyr was colour

‘Twas before theyr was only the darkness.

Curiosity soon becomes entwined with a mortal life

Her love for a darker world bound her to its life.

After a while her wings turned plain,

Poor little fallen angel, her wings were fading away.

Time went by and she would no longer know,

She could not remember,

She no longer knew.

For a long time she stayed torn

Blinded between love and pain.

She had learnt

What she does seek she most surely will find.

Her wings stretched wide, she dived

Gracefully from the sky

And fell into a human life.

Time passes longer theyr,

Almost like an eternity and a day

‘Til she once again remembered

Theyr had been colours in the sky.



In a Time far gone and in a Land long, long ago our worlde was not known as Earth, but t’was called Atlantis.  This will one day change and be re-named again, tis the Law.  Theyr lived in those days a race of beautiful beings not from this place, they who wore wings upon theyr backs.  Huge, glorious Winged Ones.  These are the Fallen Angels, and yes they were enticed by the beauty of our worlde, so they chose to walk amongst us peacefully.  In those Times, so did other races of beings.  An array of beautiful, wonderful beings and creatures, and the humans became so very jealous and wanted to be the same.  So they did try.

                Captured, and theyr wings were chopped off.  Cut with no remose, these were taken without permission and some even given to the scientific ones in defeat, but triumphant for a far away and distant future.  They were the ultimate martyrs, that is why the Fallen Ones are deemed in the bible lost to God.  Not true, this was writ to make the human mind turn away from the darkest of Truths, theyr past. 

                Beautiful, but now raggled creatures wandered wearily across Atlantis and our worlde for lifetimes lost and unable to return to theyr Home, as they now had no means to do so.  These days you can see and know some of the remnants of the Fallen Angels, the ones whose wings were taken away.  They hurt more than others, theyr backs arch and caves for its missing piece.  For the wings held theyr backs together, without them they are diffused and broken from theyr beauty, power and strength.

                Those that did take away theyr wings, they shall rectify, but nought without hardships and tests.  They do not want to remember Atlantis, but they shall.  Karma always rebalances, and a lot was done in Atlantis days that shall and will be Finished.

               

Unleashing and Awakening the Dragon within...

Uncoil the beat of the soul.  Memories within wrap themselves around the past and your blood pumps with the heart song of the ancients, winding also around theyr memories.  Together, you just Are.  All that you seek, all that you yearn... is just You.  Your memories, your future aspirations; they all Are and they all have Been.  How your blood draws you near, us near. 

              The Dragon resides in your base core or chakra it can be called, this is your basic instinct.  All the emotions of Power, the energy that drives you forward... this is Dragon.  The heat you feel when adrenalin pumps in excited fashion... this is Dragon.  The love that is unconditionally eternal, ancient and strong... this is Dragon.   From the tip of your spine, the tailbone to your skull... is the Dragon.                    Arms stretched wide, form the wings of Dragon...You.  This is the Kundalini, the serpent that Awakes...the wingless Dragon.  This power source centre contains all your chakras, it is the Rainbow Serpent. 

Society and hystory in general, has taught us to be uncomfortable with these mythological beings.  Those who feel the bloodcall, who are able to draw power and strength from the older than time ancient ones, grow stronger and much clearer once they learn to feel comfortable with theyr uniqueness.  Theyr is a surety with such energy seeping off one’s aura and energetic fields, people will be instinctively uncomfortable within your presence.  Sending off a refined and regal, albeit occasionally masculine-like quality regardless of whether it is a Lord or Lady of the Dragon Realm masquerading momentarily as a human and living a nonchalant life that all will be provided in abundance.  This charm really does ensure they always do, a feat I now see accomplished after an intense frowning concentration session from my oldest borne son who has now discovered he is the companion to a Chaos Dragon as he says... and the way my brother just sits backs and receives with a huge, knowing smile upon his face, much to his amusement and my thoughts of why is it in my family the girls surely have to work so much harder for it. 

                                 Stand theyr out in nature, in the wood and trees or in the wide open spaces and just breathe in the air, arms out wide and face towards the sky... Inhale deeply and draw the power within, imagine you are looking at your tailbone, see that you can feel the tip of the dragons tail uncoil and stand straight.  Up along your back, the Dragon uncoils and feels free once more, feel the Dragon stretch and energy raise from your base to your head.  Your head and back is now the Dragons head and tail.  Arms out wide, you and the Dragon become as One, are One.  Breathe deeply and inhale, keep this going as you raise the Power and feel ready to Soar! As you open your new eyes, how do you see the worlde now?

                 Much differently I expect...



A traverse throughout Hystory and Mythology...)O(

Inanna's descent into the

Underworlde...

“I went there of my own free will.

I went there in my finest gown,

with my rarest Jewels

With my Queen of Heaven crown

In the Underworld

At each of the Seven Gates

I was stripped seven times

Of all that I thought I was

Till I stood bare in who I really am.

The Birth of Aphrodite...

            Aphrodite, her birth results when Kronos castrates his father and throws his testicles away.  The blood from the wound falls on earth and generates the Erinyes, Giants and Ashtree Nymphs.

The genitals, cut off with adamant

and thrown from land into the

stormy sea.

Were carried for a long time on

the waves;

White foam surrounded the

immortal flesh,

And in it grew a girl.  At first it

touched

On holy Cythera, from there it

came

To Cyprus, circled by the waves.

And there

The goddess came forth, lovely,

much revered,

and grass grew up beneath her

delicate feet.

Her name is Aphrodite among

men.

And gods, because she grew up in

the foam,

And Cytherea, for she reached that

land,

And Cyprogenes, from the stormy

place

where she was born, and

Phillommedes from

The genitals, by which she was

concieved.

Eros is her companion; fair Desire

Followed her from the first, both

at her birth

and when she joined the company

of the gods.

From the beginning, both among

gods and men,

she had this honour and received

This power:

Fond murmuring of girls, and

smiles, and tricks.

And sweet delight, and

friendliness and charm.

Homer; VIII

to Ares...

            Ares, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider, golden-helmed, doughty in heart, shield-bearer, saviour of cities, harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with spear, O defence of Olympus, father of Warlike Victory, ally of Themis, stern governer of the rebellious, leader of righteous men, sceptred King of manliness, who whirl your fiery spear among the planets in their seven-fold courses through the aether wherein your blazing steeds ever-bear you above the third firmament of heaven; hear me, helper of men, giver of dauntless youth!  Shed down a kindly ray from above upon my life, and strength of war, that I may be able to drive away bitter cowardice from my head and crush down the deceitful impulses of my soul.  Restrain also the keen fury of my heart, which provokes me to tread the way of blood-curdling strife.  Rather, O blessed one, give you me the boldness to abide within the harmless laws of peace, avoiding strife and hatred and the violent fiends of death.

Sokrates speech of Persephone...

            “Let us inquire what thought man had in giving them (the gods) their names... The first men who gave names (to the gods) were no ordinary persons, but high thinkers and great talkers... Pherephatta!-- How many people fear this name, and also Apollon!  I imagine it is because they do not know about correctness of names.  You see they change the name Phersephone and its aspect frightens them.  But really the name indicates that the goddess is wise; for since things are in motion (pheromena), that which grasps (ephaptomenon) and touches (ephapon) and is able to follow them is wisdom.  Pherepapha, or something of the sort, would therefore be the correct name of the goddess, because she is wise and touches that which is in motion (epaphe tou pheromenou) and this is the reason why Haides, who is wise, consorts with her, because she is wise-- but people have altered her name, attaching more importance to euphony than to truth, and they call her Pherephatta!-Persephone.”

                                                                   Wif of Bathes Tale...

“In Th' olde days of The King Artour,

Of which That Bretons speken gret honour,

I was this lond fulfild of faerie;

The elf-quene, with joly compaigne,

Danced full ofte in many grene mede.

This was The olde opinion, as I rede;

I speak of many hundred yeres ago.

But now no man se none elves mo,

For now The great charitee and prayers

Of limitours and other holy freres,

That serchen every lond and every streme,

As thikke as motes in the sonnebeme,

Blissing halles, chambres, kitchens, boures,

Citees and burghes, castle highe and toures,

Thropes and bernes, shepenes and dairies,

This maketh that ther ben no faeries.”

Heirachie of Angells...

“In John Milesius any man may reade

Of divels in Sarmatia honored,

Call'd kottri, or kibaldi; such as wee

Pugs and Hob-goblins call their dwellings bee

In corners of old houses least frequented,

or beneath stacks of wood: and these convented,

Make fearfull noise in buttries and in dairies;

Robin Goodfellowes some, some call them fairies.

In solitairie roomes these uprores keepe,

And beat at dores to wake men from their slepe;

Seeming to force locks, be ne'er so strong,

and keeping Christmas gambols all night long.

Pots, glasses, trenchers, dishes, pannes and kettles,

They will make dance about the shelves and settles,

As if about the kitchen tost and cast,

Yet in the morning nothing found misplac't.”