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Bees

4 Jun

HoneyBees
Nectar of the Gods.
Can science really tell what our honey is about?
Can learned men dissect it molecule by molecule and atom by atom and really understand it?
Can they possibly see all the ingredients buried within it?
Can they count the minutes and seconds taken in its process?
Can they isolate the amount of sunshine, rain and wind that has gone into the manufacturing process?
Can they tell exactly which flower is needed for the correct pollen?
There are too many variables.

Yes, they can see the macrocosm of its construction,
Yes, they can see the specific sugars and the number of carbohydrates and calories and vitamins.
And yes, they can make a broad judgement on its food value.
But it is impossible to know the intricate finer detail of its substance.
And it is in the finer detail that the magic lies.

We are the alchemists of life.
It is not for nothing that our product is the colour of gold.
It is not for nothing that those who tame us and keep us are considered to have special gifts.
It is not for nothing that great poets have told of us, and myths have grown around us and we have been venerated by those who tap into the spiritual realm.

But it is not necessary to believe in anything supernatural to understand our mystery.
We are but a part of the intricate web of nature.
We too are hewn from the dust of the earth and the breath of the wind.
We also carry within us the self-same strands of DNA spiralled together in our own unique pattern.
Our building blocks are the same as all life forms. We really are no different……
And yet, perhaps we have been given a touch more than most.
Perhaps we have the edge in energy stores.
After all, busyness is our hallmark.
Perhaps we have the edge in construction, harnessing the power of the hexagonal.
Perhaps our discipline and orderliness in the rank and file of our workers puts even the greatest armies to shame, and our selflessness in service to the community is regarded unparalleled.
But to God, all the above is child’s play.
He can bestow all these attributes on anyone at any time, and to whichever creature he chooses he can award the laurel wreath of success above all.
No, our secret lies in the fatal flaw of the Laws of the Lower Worlds: Free Choice.

We must make honey.
But in the vibration of our buzzing wings, we can choose the wavelength of love, or the wavelength of obligation.
We are not told or ordered which to choose.
Both produce honey.
But the choice determines the magic.
When we beat our wings with love, we sing the same song as the flowers and the sun and the winds and the earth.
We move in harmony with the creation.
And it is this choice that powers the healing properties of our honey.
And it is this choice that we make with the joy of life in our hearts that fuels our industry and our energy.
And it is the consequence of this choice that honey tastes sweet and combats the ills of your body.

It is our choice to love, and it is our choice to express our love in our work and it is this ingredient that cannot be observed, weighed or measured.
And it is this simple magic that we embed in the honey uncalled for and unasked, given of our own free will, that makes it the king of all foods and the nectar of the gods.

Protea

21 Apr

IMG_6981I am a king.

My kingdom extends across the earth.

I know all my subjects.

I know all the invaders of my lands.

I know the destructors of my fiefdom.

I know who may come and who may go.

Do not dare to believe that you  know more than me.

And should you wish to  cross my borders do not forget to obtain my permission.

For it will go ill with you should you trespass, and no mercy will be shown.

I am not made on simple terms.

My structure is intricately designed and masterfully crafted to absorb the light from the crystalline grid that surrounds the earth.

I process the energies from the grid and the earth, and retune the vibrations so that the balance  between the two entities are held in perfect harmony and are able to communicate with each other.

And it is for this reason that I am the pinnacle of the floral kingdom and it is for this reason that my integrity must be kept pristine and uncorrupted.

Mountain, sea and land, the magical trinity of my habitat: the exquisite balance of these forces of nature hold me at the perfect geometric configuration to allow the etheric fibres to stay crystal clear and the vibration of subatomic  size particles to be transmitted with pinpoint accuracy.

Were it not for me this world would have ended long ago.

I was placed here by the wisdom of the sages of the past, and through the eons I have evolved into the instrument of cosmic communication that is needed here.

My message to you is to open your hearts to the voice of the planet, heed the call of the divine to give due acknowledgement to the gift of life and respect the sacred earth on which you have been placed.

You are only a guest here for a short while.

It is only right that you should not take advantage of the hospitality that you have been shown.

While you are here, rather enhance your surroundings; do not use more of the resources than you need.

By all means enjoy all the facilities but:

Tidy up after yourself and leave the place in a better condition than when you arrived.

In this way, you can be sure that the host will appreciate and respect you, friendships can be forged,

And you will be always be welcome should you need to pass this way again.

Rainforests

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.

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