She calls

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I can hear her calling. Hardly there like a whisper it is carried by gentle wind. There is no force or vigour in that call, just a brush on my being making awareness known that she is waiting, she is there. There is comfort in knowing somewhere hundreds of miles away there is a place that exists and willing to accept you just as you are. It comes as a song, as the land sings in tunes that can be heard amidst its beauty. Every time I am alone in the wilderness, particularly near water, the song comes alive on my lips. It is such a natural feeling that I can’t help but pick up a tune and carry it through the land. It is an act of participation in the land’s dreaming, in its being state just as it is. I feel belonging in a way I can’t explain. It is a modest, humble way of being present; behaving in a way that does not possess, disturb or claim any rights to it and that is how the land wants it. It opens up in ways unexpected revealing the simplest, but the most stunning corners of its soul, be it in a rain drop on a blade of grass or a blanket of mist over loch in early hours. It is truly feminine on the whole, I feel, particularly in certain places. It is so on the Isle of Mull where I am going. There is no rush or anything planned, it is in the flow of any given day that the land is there for me to participate in and there is so much to discover through being with her.

It can be overwhelming so I feel nervous once again as the day of reunion approaches. It is that feeling of meeting a lover, someone utterly dear to your heart that you’ve been separated from for a while. It is the feeling we are all familiar with when we finally step into their embrace and it is both ecstatic and overwhelming and it takes time to ground in being together in the same place. I never know what to expect and try hard not to have any ideas preconceived by past experiences. My mind creates these states due to nervousness within me, which is completely natural. It is hard not to rush into feeling either and get swept away with it before the journey even begins, but again, that is also natural when going to a place that although non-human is animate to me in every sense. It has a distinct smell to me and it sounds in a particular way. Visual alone is all consuming and touching its skin being it stones, moss, heather or a surface of a loch often threatens to swallow me up through overload of emotions. It is fully alive within me and it is no surprise containing it all within little old me is difficult, but year after year I go, I participate, I learn and will continue for as long as I hear the song distant, but loud within my heart.

Soul Land review

From a Druid, writer and poet, Nimue Brown, the author of many wonderful books on nature-based spirituality, comes a review of my poetry collection. I am so pleased she enjoyed it.

I love how she framed them as Bardic songs, letters. So interesting, which makes it even more significant for me.

https://druidlife.wordpress.com/2020/07/19/soul-land-a-review/

ORDER a signed copy from the author

Her devotion

She loved him so he could be free

To be adrift amidst her caring and

Anchored in her home roots

She loved him so he could become

The version only heavens know

To fly in spirit and deed

Come back to her devotion

She loved him so he can feel

The warmth only known through her

To laugh and act as if to see

The world she sees for him

Elemental

Link in breath with what’s desired

Blow all that serves you not

Be authentic and inspired

Worry what may come or not

 

Liberation from entrapment

Comes from knowing within

Fire, Air, Water, Spirit

Earth the Mother fully seen

 

Elemental is your wild

Beating heart of what is raw

Beauty piercing devout

Lives within you ever more

 

Walk the walk of burning passion

No turning off the path

Listen, be, with no caution

Full embodiment of trust

Author copies have arrived

Excited to announce

Out in 2021

Intuitive Magic Practice

by Moon Books

A guide and companion on an individual journey to true self-empowerment through reclaiming the power of intuition, this book celebrates who are you, utilizes intuition, nature principles and elements and puts YOU and your magical practice at the centre. Aimed at beginners, Pagan Portals – Intuitive Magic Practice is easy to follow and will help you discover techniques, methods and practices you can adapt for your own magical practice.

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Register your interest for a signed/review copy and I will get in touch

 

Hidden

Hidden

Unreachable, beyond awareness

Dead to the world

Alive to myself

Linked with the animal and land

And no more

Rejoiced in not found and lost

Until I call for it… if ever

I remain in a way of spirit

Like a ghost to the living

Like a flesh to natural

I am a flower petal as pink as the sky falling beyond the sea

A blade of grass the same colour as ancient hills beyond

I hide in small to become aware of the giant infinity of being

And out there I disappear, as angry feet stamp out all that’s soulful

Away from view yet looking through the brightest biggest window

Hidden away yet fully alive

What Am I For?

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A bird, a tree, a rock; they know what they are for, what freedom is

Simplicity of it pierces through me breaking my heart for I can’t reach that state of knowing

Human…

I am misplaced, shapeshifted here and there, but nowhere I know what I am for

I do it all and do it well, as there’s nothing else to be done, yet there is always a bodily grumble, a jerk and a sting in the tongue, as joy is lost and never there

What am I for? I do not know

In constant searching I tire desiring for extinction, yet if not searching then what?

Grabbing onto something, anything, somewhere, but nothing stays, as it should or should it not be that way?

Is being misplaced a ‘what for’ in itself?

The non-human calls me, as it knows what is what, it had always known and for that I love it so

Thrown into this life one more time I swam and walked straight off with confidence, but devoid of knowing what am I for?

Was I for something, but no more? Seem to have had and lost too early, known too soon, aged ahead of time. Is that it? Neither a witch nor a monk, but both

I seem to know a lot of parts

A bit of everything, but no one thing and I want to be one thing

Past love returns through dreams to remind me of the loss and the feeling that burns with such purity and light

It hurts, but the pain is sweet, the pain is deadly, yet alive. Is love what I was for, but no longer?

I drop it all now and again, empty out the way for something to take shape, to become once more

It comes, it stays, and it fuels, but not for long before the craving rises up again for

What am I for?

Now and again I grab hold of the golden thread and cherish it for a time

Before it slips out of my hand once again to become something or anything, but not mine

Am I a shapeshifting entity adapting to what is? Is that enough? Is that worthy of staying, being?

Perhaps it’s always been with nothing solid or constant needed

Perhaps the flow is where it’s at, for I speak of the flow often

Why does the yearning not stop and bitterness grows at times?

Why the peace alludes me and tears always stand on ready

Perhaps, it is a part of a crying body, dark texture of a human that also wants to be

And I am a carrier of its skin and depth

Perhaps, that is just so and what if that is not me, or one or constant

Perhaps, I am the ever-changing sketch of all things life, all voices of the unknown

In times of tiredness I crave the knowledge of the way of trees, rocks and birds

It comes over and over, but a shapeshifter needs rest, space, and formlessness

Hence emptiness is a necessary part of life too

What am I for? A lifetime spent asking questions is a life worth having

Perhaps…

@copyrightNC2020