Going home

Like a lover long gone it gently teases with its promise of pleasure

Like the first love long dead it stirs the ashes of my shaken heart into yarning

Like a smoke over the hills it entices me home

Like a river it washes off my worldly doings

You never were mine, will you be mine now?

Will you come like an old friend that never forgot?

Like an old wound that still remembers the pain of love

Will you heal with me in embrace eternal and sacred?

Will you die with me always knowing the love we shared?

Will you come home?

Nature is the original source

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Land is a godly thing, it is of the sacred and the original. It is a being one, open one, the one that offers a choice of whether to transform or not and in no way based on doctrine, assigned attributes, it is free flowing, evolving and constant. What happens when you get touched by land? For me and others, I have heard, it is a realisation of how small we are in the grand scheme of things, which is the land and all life on it, amidst time and historical platform. “We are no different to a blade of grass,” someone said once and I felt it was beautiful put and I believe precisely that. We all come from one place, natural and evolving. There’s a beginning and an end with a purpose woven into the whole journey. What that purpose is often unknown, or, as I like to think, rather hidden from view. Some seek to know it, really know it through a journey of digging deeper into themselves and some simply live according to what they decide works for them or feels good. Both can be connected, but do not have to be. Others adopt laws and rules of a society, community, religious views amidst other things, by which they construct their lives. It is all valid I’d say as we are present on our journeys here on Earth with divinity intertwined into whatever manifestation we choose.

Nature is the original source and its magnificence in multi-presentations and intricacies of its ways of being and ancient knowledge can wake up and sustain our consciousness and bring us back to ourselves more than anything else can.

Image: original by Raw Nature Spirit

That place

There’s this place I know far far into northern parts

It is raw with spirit, with rugged edges and foamy waves and winds that rip through your heart mercilessly

It is the wild part in me it speaks to the most

It is the unrest in my soul it wants to harbour like a ship of its own fleet, like a native creature long extinct

What I didn’t know it holds cruelty as it will ask you to give up all that is here and now, all that is day to day

It is made of another substance all together and it lives only by its own rules

It holds the biggest spirit in its rivers, mountains and forests that it will blind you with its majesty and beauty

Losing yourself to it is easy, effortless, delightful even

Pulling yourself back into life is near impossible as once that pristine air enters your lungs it is all you will find yourself being able to breathe and life, that life we have here on Earth becomes worth losing

Dangerous, you see, losing yourself in the overwhelm of the beautiful land, joining spirit before your time

The land is a perfect place for that, losing yourself. It knows the deepest grief and the most glorious rising towards another world where nothing matters but the feeling of belonging to it unconditionally, in surrender

A dream…

Oh how I just want to go and not return

As I would be home at last and forever

This separation seems more and more pointless like waiting for nothing and everything

It is right there. I can feel the land’s beating heart within my own

Yet like chains otherness holds me and it feels like a rope round my neck yet necessary, almost pretending to be a gift

Love is a strange thing. The strangest

It pulls and pushes and one never really knows how to be with it as often there is no reason or explanation. It just is…

Its powerful curse of surrender though can either make you or break you but what’s the worse is not having ever felt it or being fulfilled by it

Damn you, I say in one breath and in another I take in the soul of my child smiling at me

I am walking away one day and another I am asked to stay by warm presence of another

Land or man, wild or contained, soulful or dutiful it is all entwined in the existence of today

I closed my eyes in my sleep earlier today and saw a cottage with Gaelic words above the door. I was speaking the words as if I knew the tongue naturally, but I struggled to make meaning. There was two versions of the wording, I remember that clearly. Walking into the cottage and crouching down due to a low entrance ceiling I was carrying an old water pale. It felt calming, like home, like where I want to be. So clear a vision, a dream

Love everlasting

The first time I knew you my breath was out to abandonment

My knees touched the greenness of your body and in awe I stood amidst a stone circle feeling protected and contained

I lowered myself into your cooling stream imagining I wash myself anew

I knew then I never wanted to be anywhere else

I knew then my love will last a life time

Do you believe in such beauty that delicately transforms your being into something so light and peaceful that is unimaginable in the world like this

I now do believe and the breath leaves me every time I lay my eyes on a silvery Loch in early evening

How can something be in such calmness among such horrors and unthinkable acts

How can something be so soothing to the soul you know there’s no other home for you, for me, for anyone who dares to love

Words are easily overtaken by feelings and it is experience so profound that saying nothing carries the most weight

I’ve been here again and again and without fail my heart remains faithful to the utter bliss you give me so generously, so unconditionally

Worship… not the word, inspiration may be, most of all it is love like the one been and lost, like the one before I was a grown up, when enchantment, wonder and heart laid bare

Transpersonal, everlasting

Like it sprinkled gold on me permanently that can’t be rub off

It shines on the inside like a fire that’s being kept alive eternally

Don’t you find peace in the love once known? Can you name a more welcomed imprint? It lives on

I know it again, here, in this land

It lives on in its glorious clothing of each season with such beauty that spirit rejoices in simply being

“I miss you… always”

“I miss you”, she thought to herself quietly flying towards it in her mind.

“I am here”, the land replied, always here.

“I think I know that now”, she breathed in easy yet with a touch of sadness.

“Any time, anywhere in your awareness I live”, the land gently spoke.

“In my awareness you live and like a precious jewel I carry you close to my heart”, she replied.

One day you are a stunning white bird singing so loud I can’t ignore you or pretend it doesn’t hurt to hear your song. The next day you are leaves under my feet content and ready to surrender.

In my awareness you live, in that awareness I breathe till the next time I step into your arms expansive and raw and scream again, ” I am here, I have missed you so…”

Winter in the Highlands

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It is Munro climbing season in Scotland and these folk, who shared these stunning images, are out and about loving winter just as much as I do.

The Land of Spirit at its finest!

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