Reflecting

Elysium Illuminated

Bursting with
Abundance,
Abandon yourself
To nature
In this
Elysium orchard,
In these meadows
Sweet with nectar.
What enticement
To stop a while
And feast on such riches
For the body,
For the soul.
The heart stays here
While, reluctantly,
Time must beat
Ever onwards.

Image:http://rammelaars2.blogspot.co.uk/2011_05_01_archive.html

Astral voices

The offbeat provides
A change of tempo
Increasing the pace,
Catching momento.
Closing my eyes
It’s then I hear them.
The sound of gentle
Song soaring within
The rhythmic beat.
I look around.
No one is there
Except our circle
Of drummers all –
Engrossed…and mute.
The music is ours
Felt through fingertips
and palms and the sway
of our torsos,
Yet a choir of
Tribal souls are here
Present in this room.

photo credit: http://schoolofhealingarts.com/whole-being-weekend-2/

In remote areas some people are crofters, fishermen, weavers, artists, run a guest house and have a day job

Teaching tomorrow but, at an extra £2.50 per hour, that alone won’t pay for car repairs. Filling in part-time job applications – fingers crossed…

7 Word Sunday – We Are…

7WS
Nonchalant sunlight sprinkles handfuls of cosmic dust

photo credit:https: http://ak8.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/2607977/preview/stock-footage-specks-of-dust-floating-a-beam-of-light.jpg

And relax…

I’m taking my elderly parents shopping. They are not impressed by my new meditational didge CD.
“What’s that noise?” says my Mum, “Sounds like we are being invaded by dinosaurs!”
My Dad,an artist, doesn’t appreciate the tonal quality.
”Not much colour is there?”
“No colour at all.” complains Mum. “It sounds like a more boring version of the bagpipes.”
“Wait!” I urge them “I think there’s an interesting bit just coming now…” Two beats later the drone is back. I am marvelling at the length of the sound without stopping. I share this revelation with the captive audience.
If he’s not breathing he should be dead by now. No-one can go that long without breathing!” says my sceptical mother.
“It’s circular breathing Mum, in through the nose and out through the mouth at the same time.”
“Hmmph” responds Mum, unimpressed obviously.
“Your grandson is able to do it.” I point out. My Mum immediately takes more interest while my Dad, who has missed this additional piece of information, is still not able to hear the subtleties in the rendition. He is a bit hard of hearing after all.
“I think it would be more tuneful listening to me gargling.” Dad is feeling left out.
We can’t help laughing as holding a tune is not his forte.
“Listen!” I can hear the faint beginnings of a boomerang call weaving its way into the music but by the time they have finished their derisive mutterings, they’ve missed it.
Didgeridoo for the unconverted.

image:http://blogyogui.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/el-didgeridoo.html

Didgeridoo Dreamimg by Cephalodidge is available here: Joe Caudwell
http://jcaudwell.wix.com/cephalodidge#!didgeridoos/cbfn

Over the last few months, Joe of Cephalodidge has been running events that provide a relaxing and healing space for people, using the didgeridoo as a therapeutic instrument, through sound and vibration. These ‘Didgeridoo Dreaming’ sessions have led Joe to create an album that can facilitate meditation, journeying and healing. This CD, recorded and mastered by Tim Charlton (who also did the Ostara album for Joe) is an atmospheric soundscape of two didgeridoos weaving together for just over 40 minutes. The didgeridoo used for the recording was made by Joe from a dead sycamore tree he found in the Autumn of 2013, near a special cave in the woods that he often visits and plays in.
10% of the sale of the new CD will be donated to Survival International, the well known organisation that helps tribal people defend their lives, protect their lands and determine their own futures.
You can hear some short samples of the CD here, and also pre-order it now, the CD will be released by the end of April 2014.

Gone but not Forgotten

That’s the last substantial tree gone then. My newish neighbour hates trees. Thinks they are going to fall on her so told me of her plan to uproot everything along our boundary. Previously a nice secluded, if a little wild, place to relax and enjoy some privacy in our garden – now completely open to be overlooked from her back lawn (can’t call it a garden) and the street beyond.
I wonder where the little inquisitive robin will nest this year…

The mark of the Dragon

Fiery dragon’s-claw
Scars the Welsh skyline.
Feels like coming home
Now we are in the
Land of my Mother’s…

Mothers and their daughters

Family-
Like flowers
that bloom when
nurtured…sometimes wildness prevails!
Family.

Immersed in the Countryside

16.3.14
Basking in the
unfamiliar
warmth and sunshine
of a Spring newly
sprung,
we traipse over fields
and waterlogged
meadows.
Then later, laughing
with tiredness,
we peel off our
mud-caked,
sun-baked
layers –
to soak our bones
in scented water
and watch nature’s soap
disappear
down the plughole
along with our
worries.
Such bliss!