A message from Lin

© Jane Brideson 

"Winter Solstice Rebirth"

I received this message from a special friend and I have had her permission to share

this with You.

OLD HIPPY MAXIMS

As above.......so below,

Macrocosm.......microcosm,

Turn on... tune in... drop out

Heads...          Freaks..... Go with the flow

We get stoned, on crystals.....megaliths.....mother earth

Give peace a chance

Attitude gratitude......Devotion

.................................................................

Old hippies, were in recovery. the 60,s.... you know

We are now recovered

We have got our 2nd wind

Riding the post 2012....

Wave of light.

In aquarian age, ascension, party mode.

......................................................

Then, we dropped out

Of, world we saw

Greed, poverty, negative emotions, male domination, power over....

Poverty, hatred, war, toxic medications, hatred of mother earth,  and women

SO

We created a new one. Turned on, tuned in , created 

Organic farms, crystal healing, respect for mother earth and all our relations

Art, music fashion,, whole-foods shops, cnd, single mums, healers etc

Our musicians our prophets

Our inner voice, our guide

.................................

Cos we are aquarian age, ascension, forerunners

The crystal children, The rainbow warriors

hippies

Worked hard, to build the dream,

All our brothers , of fur feather and fin, joined in too.

Burnt out

.......................

Now we flow on the lightwave of 2012, ascending

We let the dying die,

Co-create, the new earth, the new body of light,

love, peace beauty truth, abundance,

Balanced in true love,

Soulmates of the inner flame

Ecstatic with joy, our dreams coming true

We turned the tide, earth is safe,

Still lots of light work to do

----------------------------------------------------------

Being shown, our Avalon phoenix,

is ready to take flight; she will be riding on the gentle

solstice dawn light, 

her wings tipped radiant. orange, gold

As she takes flight.

I see her watch the light at mount kailish

Then flowing with the earth grid, catching dawn at each site, through Carnac ; Giza, glaston, as the womblike cairns, gavanis, new-grange,As ancient ancestors built for us,  so in time to remind us

They were the abodes of immortals, the beings of light, built to remind us, which way to go, aligned to let in the winter solstice light, to touch the spiralled stones,

you know, incase we got lost

to recover true humanity, in a world gone blind

She sings the song of creation,

Her gift to us this season, 

to renew our humanity

In the ascension light, 

she will fly on to Mexico

 sit on the stone of the sun,, and sing the new creation, now

 being born

for mother earth, all our relations

....................................................

Lennon, song,                 

                                    Some say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one, 

One day you will join us, and the world will be as one

...................................

So with this wonderful, gentle, new ascension wave 

of winter-solstice light,

I wish you a 

HAPPY SOLSTICE 2014

Happy hippy Lin

Amongst Trees and Roadside Things

Nut laden overhanging Beech Tree

macro shot of a Beech Nut

The Beech trees almost olive green are laden with nuts and soon squirrels will

dance on thin branches & to gather their winter fayre. 

A rare road marker

At the road side a rarity sits, it is almost a monument to old travellers, a

hand carved Milestone. The thoroughfares were littered with them once on main roads and byways, at junctions and forks in odd out of the way places; these sentinels stood marking the path and telling the distance.

A surprise came my way the other day. A call from a friend who said

'Can I use your poem "Moon Is" to decorate an entrance for the 

Body and Soul Festival at Ballinlough Castle?'

Needless to say I was delighted with this to me novel way of viewing prose.

Details:

Ballinlough Castle is located on the N52 (Kells to Mullingar road) approximately 3 miles south of Clonmellon and 4 miles west of Athboy. www.ballinloughcastle.ie

Body & Soul Festival bodyandsoul.ie

The words are :- 

Moon is 

                  subtle

Oval ivory white

                  countenance

A sensuous glow

                  disturbs

Who sits in quiet

                  encourages

Observance

                  merriment

At least

                  pleasures         

Tempts one

                  desires

To believe so

                  love 

Innocent  

                  lust

       

    She is an Earthy Woman

© MRL 2014

My Poetry

On Thursday I created a new blog called Words of a Rambling Mind which will eventually host 99% of my poetry representing thirty years of inspired writing.

Last year I made an audio disc on my mac which only partially satisfied my desire to share with about twenty people my work.

Recently I made the decision to share the majority of them with the world of blog readers, as I saw no advantage in them lying in my desk and gathering dust.

Over the years most have been published in various magazines and others in an anthology that was published in the mid eighties called Vision of Words.

This morning I received a surprise mail from a lady in America saying how uplifted & revitalized she felt after reading one of them. I was humbled by her words and it supported my idea of sharing. For if only one person gets pleasure, then all of this will be worthwhile.

wordsofaramblingmind.blogspot.com

A poet and his poetry

I started to write poetry in the late 70's when part of a line of prose started running through my mind. I can still recall what it was ' we shall walk through sunlit leafy glades, leading to sharp green swards'. I visited every available library in the area, asked English teachers and all sorts of learned men and women if they knew that line and its source. All to no avail, next came my attempt to include those words in a poem of my own, but no, it stills lies fallow in a corner of the mind.

Tripped though was the switch to write and lines seemed to tumble out of me at all hours of the day, such was it that the habit of carrying a few sheets of paper and a pencil or pen became second nature to me. Even during the night my mind would awaken me, to tumble me out of bed, to go down to my desk and write. To be found there scribbling and sighing away by my then wife when she arose to start the day.

The main rush of poetry lasted for about twenty-five years, well actually in two bouts, because I returned to pick up the paintbrush to paint using the same source of inspiration as I did to write poetry. Later on I was able to align some of the paintings with some of the poems; Very few of those people who purchased my paintings actually enjoyed poetry! Something that I found rather hard to deal with at the time and I stopped painting with colours. Preferring to paint pictures with words instead and play with the structure of lines, making up my own house rules as I went.

I have had tremendous experiences from being involved with prose and poetry. Meeting along the way several very interesting people, some of them quite eccentric or at least ahead of their time in their mannerisms and clothing. Two of whom are now long dead - Axel Firsoff (look in Wiki) and his wife Marjorie. Together they organized a poetry group. On hearing of this my first action before attending, was to purchase their anthology and appraise their poetry with that of my own. Dare I say that it stood the test quite well and we became the best of friends.

Over the years several pieces have been published in a variety of magazines, it was for a time a secondary

pastime to get the stuff out there and into the public domain.

Then I became rather busy in other areas of my life and the need slipped away. So something over one hundred and fifty pieces have been sitting quietly on my imac.

I related this to a man of letters (a solicitor) who insisted that I printed them out to have a paper copy. It was while doing so that an idea came to me to create an audio file and perhaps record them onto disc to circulate amongst my friends who enjoy poetry.

"We have the technology" (The Bionic Man) and the CD is, as you can see, now finished!

Dark v Light

You are welcome !

It is perhaps the growing dark, the cold chilling gloom, the quickening fall of night and those pretty illuminations that sit in windows and on eaves, gable ends, the cold electric guttering lights of my unseen neighbours, that cause Mrs Heron to talk of sympathetic magic and of trying to bring the Sun back ?

Are they, the good Christians around us, aware of what their hidden Pagan soul has led them into ?

The Solstice Tree, the evergreen a display of continuing life is being decorated, as I write.

Mrs H is well able for that, her skilful hands and artistic bent do it well.

She has just asked me 'What do we have at the top?' 'A Frog !' I said, pausing then to say 'Well how about the Witch instead?' I am of course totally wrong. It is the returning reborn Sun

The Frog goes over the door attached to the Deer tine and The Witch is hidden in the tree somewhere and The Owl perches wherever he can find a prominent place, among the lights which have been neatly spun around.

Don't look too close though, for there is naughty gnome in a state of undress sitting beneath the tree.

Some echoes of Winter sit below

A WINTER OFFERING.

Winter’s sharp passion sings

Thro’ black brittle thorn limbs

Over old Áine’s fertile plains

Where summer ferns once grew

Lush: in valleys - hidden places

Deep where springs weep.

Eriu’s blood flows fresh, new

birthing stone frosted icicles

to glint in watery sunlight,

as a rapier

sword of

youth.

© MRL 26. 12. 2001

SOLITUDE DISTURBED

The Sparrow Hawk on patrol

soundless swift sweep of wing

Prey in sight divides light

To kill disappear beyond bright.

Creeps child of forest's edge

stop, listen, one white scream.

A rapid rapier's beak struck

twilight to red dark death.

A spiral hidden from sunlight

tunnels through black earth

Family cavern warm mourn

their summers first born.

©MRL NOV 2007

Spatial Battle

Unhindered swirling waves

born of an untamed power

rotated by Sun Moon energy

Whose long seas seek

scream a wild throaty roar

To smash the fortress cliffs

asunder; wet wearing winds

In unceasing hunger battle

Plunder an ancient guard

of old Devonian stone.

To reclaim space, land

on which to expand.

Pulverised rock - small sand

floods wide the old boundary

In pride of new sea-room !

© MRL NOV 2007