Cold winter brings the Everfrost and jewels every tree In a forest new as birth and old as old can be A flame~haired dreamer wanders there and shelters from the wind And spins her dreams around the trees to break the ties that bind She takes her thread and spins anew and how the Greenwood smiles As she spins a spell for freedom and for her spirit Wylde
The dreamer finds an ancient oak and shelters in his lee In a forest new as birth and old as old can be Tis summer now and birdsong weaves its magick through her spells And humming bees drum drowsily in the foxglove's bells The dreamer sits beneath the oak with yarn upon her knee And spins and knits and weaves her dreams and sets her spirit free
"When birds fall from the sky and the animals are dying, a new tribe of people...shall come unto the earth from many colors, classes, creeds, who by their actions and deeds shall make the earth green again. they will be known as the warriors of the Rainbow"
i have been having those feelings of immense peace again. as we were driving down the lane yesterday the sky was the most amazing blue, as if washed clean by the heavy rain the previous day and finally the trees and hedgerow have started to change colour and everything looks so spectacular.
i spent some time just after twilight with the waxing moon, which is being more generous to me this month than usual, in very subtle ways, for which i am extremely grateful. then when i woke in the night i spent some time looking out at the sky. as there were no lights on in the cottages opposite it was as dark as it could possibly be, the sky was so clear and the stars so bright, it was the most amazing sight. this morning we had our first frost and again the sky is fantastic.
but now as much as i would love to spend more time musing i must get my books out and i will be trying for a good six hours study today. i received my first (unmarked) piece of work back yesterday and i was extremely pleased with the feedback from my tutor.
All things share the same breath~the beast, the tree, the man, the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.
1890-17 september 1918~France
~a community of persons with artistic or literary tastes who adopt manners and mores conspicuously different from those expected or approved by the majority of society~
''The beauty of the trees,the softness of the air,the fragrance of the grass,speaks to me. The summit of the mountain,the thunder of the sky,the rhythm of the sea,speaks to me.The strength of the fire,the taste of salmon,the trail of the sun,and the life that never goes away,they speak to me. And my heart soars."