Reblogged from Myths of the Mirror:
After a day of preparing for a launch, my brain shuts down, and I relax by playing with images and music.
After all the long posts, lately. I hope you enjoy this short one.
Liars and Thieves, the 1st book of the Unraveling the Veil series, is available for Preorder at $.99.
I hope you enjoyed the show.
Reblogged from Myths of the Mirror
Song on lyre.
1. My body is a little boat
That sails the raging seas,
Where illness, tension, pain and stress
Can get the best of me.
But Spirit guides my little boat
To everything I need.
Continue reading and listen to the song at Mystical Strings
Will you wait for me at eight for our date?
Strait by the hills as it gives me some thrills
Plains and God’s wills in your hands that’s grand
On the land with clouds rolling in, no cheering crowds
Continue reading at Lady Lee Manila
Dear Don,
Good trip, wasn’t it? Once again time seems to have been obliging and stretched itself to fit with our meanderings. We are going to need to go south again though, with all I am reading about Marden Henge lately. Do you recall me mentioning it some time ago? The site on the line between Avebury and Stonehenge? The excavations are revealing another huge complex.
While I was reading up on it a bit, I came across this pic of a brooch found close by… What would you say at first glance? Early Christian?
© Wiltshire Museum
Apparently not. It’s a Bronze Age sun disc, dating back around 2,400 years before the Christian era, found in a burial mound none too far from Stonehenge. It just goes to show what we have been saying for a while… the symbols that speak directly to the inner being don’t belong to any period or system.
Continue reading at France and Vincent
Most of us want to know
What goes on behind closed doors
For me, even more so.
Behind a low hanging cloud
What does it hide?
My mind goes into overdrive
Like Icarus, flying too close to the sun
I must know,
Continue reading at Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie
Image shared courtesy of Aishwarya at Kitty’s Verses for Colleen’s Poetry Challenge
Strait
The path
Narrow lines
Guiding onwards
Shrouded and shadowed
Both beauty and respite
Call a seeker’s feet to stray
Till drawn by darker temptations
The light ignored for baser nature
The track seems lost in a jungle of need
Wayward spirits seek the path of return
Peering through the self-created gloom
In search of a light that seems lost
Until turning deep within
They find a guiding star
Present, quiescent
Lighting the way
Never lost
Leading
Home
The dream keeper ran through Sky. Unseen by most, his ursine form clouded the blue beyond and brought the west winds to seed the stars’ wisdom into the valley between the hills. Earth waited breathless, opening her womb to receive his air as mist.
Continue reading at The Light Behind the Story
Denial of darkness
Presence of light precluded
Two sides of the coin
*
Light and darkness meld
Harmony intermingled
Balanced perfection
*
Reblogged from Mary Smith’s Place:
Lal-sar-Jangal, Central Afghanistan: November 1989
I was sorry to say goodbye to everyone in Waras.
My horse, Zeba had fallen hopelessly in love with Ibrahim’s and couldn’t bear to let him out of her sight so it was easy to keep up a good pace with Ibrahim leading the way. Any other horse coming between Zeba and her beloved was liable to receive a savage nip.
As we rode homewards I reflected on the differences between the people of Waras and those of Lal and Jaghoray and Sheikh Ali. They were poor, their area had even less in the way of medical facilities and no aid organisation had ever done anything for the people. Life was a struggle but they did not seem bowed by it. Their religious belief was strong, but not worn as a badge as in Jaghoray. No-one worried about playing cards or listening to music in public – and never at dinner parties did the guests ostentatiously offer their prayers en masse. People left the company unobtrusively, to wash and pray in a separate room or, if it had to be done in the same room, it was discreetly in a corner without interrupting the conversation carried on around them.
Continue reading at Mary Smith’s Place
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 