Archive | January, 2013


18 Jan

ws_Montane_Rainforest_1280x1024Damp, dark and humid.

Magic and mysterious

Placenta of the foetus of life

Womb of Mother Earth.

Organic breeding ground for a myriad of life forms.

Growth and decomposition interplay a duet of molecular melody that whispers its vibration in the presence of the great guardians of earth.

Guarded and protected, roots, trunks and leaves crowd in to nurture and embrace the sacred progeny.

Mystical minerals and chemicals blend together into wild and wonderful compounds giving rise to countless creatures and organisms.

Hidden in the deep, dark, humid test tubes of the planet, the building blocks of life-force are struck and emitted into the ether to feed the voracious appetite of our existence.

It is time to realize the centre pillar of strength. The real Atlas of the world. The real greek god that holds our planet on its axis and keeps its heart beating.

Relentlessly, with every measured blade, we hew away another capillary, another vein, another artery and our own very life blood drains away, never to be salvaged, lost to the world.

With every axe stroke another limb is severed from our own bodies and it is as if we mutilate our own being.

Must we continue with this macabre dance of death?

Must we remain blindfolded in our greed and rampant disrespect for our own worth?

Must we completely disregard the desperate cries of our own consciences and totally rip from its arm the hand that feeds us?

Are we so stupid? Are we so morally bankrupt?

We have lost our way.

We have trashed our own instincts.

The gifts of our ancestors, at one with land, sea and sky, have been buried deep in us.

How difficult it is to access our own inner wisdom. How difficult is it amidst the screeching of civilisation, for us to hear our inner voice and the course of reason.

I am ashamed.

We are surrounded by all the natural resources and blessed with all the intelligence and creativity of the supergods.

We have been given everything.

Everything we could ever wish for as raw materials.

We have had all the training we could possibly want.

We have inherited, on the back of great sorrow and sacrifice, a legacy of knowledge and expertise unparalleled in history.

We have access to information and learning gleaned from the greatest minds of geniuses past and present on every possible topic under the sun.

And yet, for the most part, we use it all to wreck our own home and debilitate our future generations.

With each square meter of denuded rain forest, we sow a hectare of desolation.

Would any reasonable landowner wantonly and unthinkingly burn his own property for a moment of power?

The rainforests come to us only to give.

Their genius lies in their skill to regenerate and yield a bountiful harvest.

As the trees are the guardians of the life held within them, so are we guardians of these gracious trees.

Let us be like them. Let us give them the respect they deserve.

Let us do all in our power to give them space and time to resurface the earth with their life-giving energy.

Let us protect them as they protect each microbe and bacteria and fungus and mould.

Let us, before it is too late, honour  our own innate intelligence and work together enmeshed in the very warp and weft of the cloth of life, as one with Nature, as one with the land, the sky and the sea, as one with our own destiny.



12 Jan

P1030342Oh Rainbow! Melt into my heart in the way that only rainbows can!

Look how their colours reflect the glory of the earth.

Look how they come into being. Magically. With only a few drops of water and a beam of light.

How beautiful they are!

They sing the song of lightness and grace.

They sing the song of peace and tranquillity .

They sing the heart song of the soul.

They are the soul made visible.

Their essence is light and colour.

Their vibration peace, and calm and stillness.

And often, though not always, they show themselves after stormy, turbulent and thunderous times.

If I were to speak to a rainbow for  you, I am sure it would say that it is so glad to meet you.

That it is charmed that you have taken a moment to admire its graceful arch and translucent  beauty.

And it would feel gratitude that you have given it some of  your attention, which in this busy world, is a  precious commodity.

And I am sure, that in a like fashion when you are lost in that moment of observation, the rainbow will itself be well aware of you.

And in a like fashion, it will admire your beauty and your astonishing light of which for the most part you are unaware.

But consider this, how can you know the essence of something unless its essence lies within yourself?

How can you know hate, if you do not harbor some of it yourself?

How can you know love if you don’t have any experience of it within you?

How can you recognize genius if you have not glimpsed it within yourself ?

The beauty of the rainbow wishes to reflect to us our own beauty, our own magnificent light, our own kaleidoscope of glorious colour, our own expansive, perfect arch of symmetry.

Ah, if I were the rainbow, I know what I would say to you:

“Look at me and see, with  fresh eyes washed clean from the dust of daily life.

See with eyes rinsed by the cool splashy raindrops.

See your own essence of wonder reflected by me back to you.

Embrace the concept of the observer and the observed,

And know that we bathe in each other’s light.”


10 Jan

I have a sweet smile and shiny eyes.

And I look to you for wisdom.

And I trust you.

I trust you with a trust so profound that it is impossible to fathom its depth.

My trust in you is that of the flower that unguardedly opens its petals as wide as it can in expectation of the visit of the bee.

My trust is so clear and unclouded that it is almost as if I am not there, just my heart is present so that I do not crowd your presence out with mine.

I look to you and put my very being in your hands, for there is no thought or concept in my head to do otherwise.

I drink from your cup and I eat from your plate and I fear nothing.

What is there to fear?

You have the knowledge I seek.

You have the key to the mysteries of life.

You have the answers that my heart desires.

And I look to you for meaning in my world.

And I hide nothing, for what is there to hide?

I know nothing, only that you know, and will tell me all I need to know.

And if you do not know it, then I do not need it.

Only our lives are shaped by the patterns that surround us.

Only our hopes are planted in the soil of the earth.

Only our mind has any attachment to the world around us.

That which is important, that which lies buried deep within us, that which pulls us so relentlessly to God, only that is still and unmoving.

And it is there, in that place, that a little heart beats with love and stretches out its chubby arms to be lifted up and carried over the rocky ground and swirling rivers.

And it is there also, in the midst of the chaotic traffic of life, that a small head with golden curls rests upon the shoulders of the divine, and slips, heavy-lidded, into the unconscious oblivious sleep reserved solely for the innocents.


10 Jan

stillness-1920x1080_00400212Quiet and solitude. This is what you need.

You cannot go through this life in the frenzy of action without stopping for a moment to reflect.

It is a necessity to stop.

It is a need, like  breathing. Break off  every now and then from the daily grind of incessant activity and wait.

Wait – for the anxious spirit to have a moment to steady itself.

You have to give due regard to this.

It is like drinking from a cup. The cup is emptied and must be refilled.

You need to set the cup down and hold it still while it is refilled.

The cup of life is no different.

So many of us are drinking from empty cups.

And thus our thirst is never quenched.

If you are wise, then, and would have some measure of contentment, take the time to stop awhile.

Stop and open your heart, like the windows of your house, to let the fresh cool breeze blow through and clear the stale, spent forces from your body.

Let  the sunlight and the regenerating flow of its warmth in to encourage the new growth of harmony and peace in your life.

Seek the stillness within you. Seek to reclaim that which the mind desperately wrests from your aching body.

Find it within you to, with firm resolve, dispense with the clanging thoughts that continually engulf you.

Look into the nothing.

Look into the nothing and feel your being.

Who are you? Can you feel you?

Can you for a moment sit with your own self and discover what it is that is you?

Quiet and solitude.

Seek out these two things.

Take the time to escape the clangor of the world around.

Seek your own company and let your cup be refilled.

Rest your weary spirit and for once give time to hear the calling of your imprisoned soul trapped deep within.


7 Jan

blue dragon, protector, defender

Fire-breathing warriors of the mist.

Vast ancient guardians of the deep ethereal regions of time and dimension.

Fierce protectors of the hearts of Man.

Long have they been our companions,

Long have they fought beside our heroes and brave hearts,

Long have they defended the fortresses of honour and justice.

Long have they stood as silent and unmoving as the mountain ranges of the world, letting no evil pass through their defenses.

How safe have we been kept from the incessant assaults on our senses.

How little we know of them.

How scant is the notice we give them.

How many more nights must we sleep unaware of the keepers of our dreams?

How frail we are.

How given are we to thoughtless pastimes and children’s games.

How minuscule our greatest achievements in the infinite scale of the Universe.

And yet, somehow we are treasured.

Somehow, somewhere, some one cherishes the tiny specks that we are with our feeble efforts at construction and creation.

Some force out there, must believe that our each breath carries some grain or spark of value.

It must be so, otherwise, why send such powerful, magnificent creatures to keep us protected from the ravages of the pounding tidal waves of chaos that surround us.

The way is open for us, if we only find the hidden path amidst the debris of our stories and fairy tales.

If we only care to search beneath the faded lettering and inscriptions on the tattered books lying forgotten in the attics.

If we only take a moment to whisper their half-remembered names into the dancing flames of our hearth fires.

Maybe then we might catch a glimpse of them.

Perhaps a sudden rush of heated air on our face,

Perhaps a flicker of fire on the distant horizon,

Perhaps the faint, eery cry of some unheard of  bird of prey.

All these could be clues for us.

Stand guard and alert, and keep yourself tuned to the forces of the invisible.

There lies the way to discovery, reconnection and renewal of the bonds between the warriors of old and the forgers of the future.

Let us reach out now to these great hearts and make them more welcome in our midst.

For they have kept us safe, and, unbeknown to all but a few, kept the fire of life-force burning in our breasts when all hope had long been abandoned.


5 Jan

The heart of the matter is hidden deep within.

Like a seed that holds life, so is mystery hidden in a secret place.

I am a secret about a secret, and my heart hidden in that secret can only be heard beating as the echo of a whisper.

I am a veil and an undertone. It is only my nuances that give clues to my whereabouts or nature.

You, who would discover the inner workings of things, can dismantle my outer structure to no avail.

I remain.

There is no I-ness or Is-ness or Thing-ness.

I tease you, and play with you, and like a conjurer reveals not his methods, so I give no inkling of a door or a latch.

I tantalize your mind with fleeting promises of revelation.

I knit your imagination into a furrowed brow.

I tie your shoelace strands of thoughts into frustrated knots.

I lead you along on winding paths into inescapable mazes of endless thoughts.

I lead you to restless nights and endless cups of tea or coffee and conversation deep into the small hours of the mornings.

And I rob you of your tranquillity.

Unexplainable, formless and untouchable.

Like a vapor I cloud your mind and dampen the clarity of your thoughts.

I mock logic and reason and call forth only dreams and imagination.

And I stir deep within you the faint echoes of memories of visions long since forgotten.

Mystic Storyteller

5 Jan

Come sit at my feet and listen to my story.
I bring you news from far and wide.
I tell you tales of long ago and of here and now.
I know things.
I know things no one else knows, and I can tell you these things.
Because I have been granted permission to tell you these things.
And with this information, you will be able to make better decisions in your life.
You can be sure that what I tell you is true.
And you can be sure that I will not tell you what I think you want to hear.
I will not hear what you want to know.
I can only tell you what I have been told to tell you.
And you will only hear what you need to hear in your highest and best interest.
These words come to you from the eternal spring.
I am only the mouth of the river that opens into the ocean.
The river flows from the eternal spring to you, the sea.
Hear now the chanting of my voice, and the interweaving of the melody and the moment and learn the secrets of the world around you, that you may heed these tales, revealed now in their truth.
And let your actions be guided by the knowledge I bring.

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