Intuition in stone
Seeds ancient earth
With murmured secrets.
Spirit walks a sacred world
Breathing tendrils of song
For me to follow.
Through the lonely night,
I walk the path of harmony
Wandering between summer clouds
To wild moonlight,
Listening always
For you.
It’s a narrow stream, on this side our present, on the other, the past, or an unknown future. What to chose? Staying here, where we are now, is not an option: sooner or later, but maybe much sooner, we have to step on those stones, make up our mind, and chose.
Continue reading at Of Glass and Paper
The smallest voices
Joined to sing in harmony
Cannot be ignored
*
Reblogged from Tallis Steelyard, aka Jim Webster:
I wish to stress that I am in no way hostile to musicians. Yes I might regard some of them as louche wastrels, a collection of over-remunerated incompetents with the moral compass of a pimp’s bully, but this is merely an observation based on bitter experience; it is not a sign of hostility.
Still fate prescribes that I must work with these people and I am experienced enough not to kick against the machineries of fate. After all, if the patron I attend upon is shallow enough to prefer melodic artistes to the purveyors of the true arts, it is surely my task to tutor and enlighten them. Indeed if I made a habit of contentiously foisting my opinions upon the unwilling, I would merely end up experiencing penury more dire than that which is currently my lot.
Continue reading at Tallis Steelyard
The following week, Papa and Uncle Willem had visited the general store in the local town. They had returned with exciting news.
“Our officers held a war council meeting at Balmoral recently. They have adopted an entirely new military tactic. We will no longer be employing defensive or passive tactics but will be employing a new strategy of attacking the Khakis as frequently as possible and, in particular, attempting to obstruct their communication routes.”
“How will that work practically,” asks Marta.
Continue reading at Roberta Writes
A lovely review of Swords of Destiny from Diana Wallace Peach, author of The Rose Shield series…
In this modern-day adventure, the world is in peril, and the immortal Merlin (of King Arthur fame) has gathered four ordinary people with extraordinary heart and courage to stand against the destructive forces. Their mission as the Champions of Light is to acquire the four swords of destiny and bring balance to the world.
The tale draws heavily on the legends and myths of the British Isles, the sacred places, and the beliefs of those who were intimately connected to the spirits of the land. The Fae are alive and well, trolls hide out in caves. There are unicorns, elves, and mountain giants. Most of the story unfolds in conversation/exposition, though it does have some action scenes that are quite intense and emotional. There is also quite a bit of romance, and some fun humor.
What I enjoyed most was the characters, not only the human champions, but Merlin, his brother Heilyn, and the fairy queen Mab. Point of view is shared by most of the main characters with pov shifts in the middle of scenes. The dialog is witty, including sections of clever banter. There’s mischief, for sure. Recommended for lovers of ancient British Isle mythology who will likely recognize some of the sacred places and characters.
Excerpt from Swords of Destiny
“Where’s that dratted brother of mine when you need him? We could use a nudge from Heilyn right now!” The old man stomped off and sat down on a large stone, muttering under his breath.
Alec turned away from the lake to scan the horizon, searching for clues. The tarn nestled between the Raydale hills. There were a few ruined buildings, small clumps of trees, but nothing stood out as a landmark. A flash of white caught his eye, the only movement in the silent landscape. He watched in a desultory manner as a pretty white mare pawed the ground and shook her mane, while his mind searched for answers. Timidly the young mare came closer. Slowly, she approached the party. Sabrina was at Alec’s elbow, watching entranced.
“She’s the symbol of Epona, isn’t she? The Horse Goddess in the Celtic myths.”
“Of course. I never thought of that, I was miles away.” Alec glanced at the blade in his hand. Sabrina laughed quietly.
“See, I told you I’d come in handy!” The young woman motioned to Jamie who came to stand beside her. The white mare was very close now. “Alec look… she’s not all there!” Jamie uncharacteristically bit back the retort that sprang to his lips, it seemed not the time for teasing. He followed her gaze and saw what she meant. “Look, you can see the hills through her flanks.”
“Good Lord!” The exclamation drew all eyes to watch the final approach of the translucent, transcendent creature. Solid she seemed, white as carved ice reflecting rainbows of light. Gently she nuzzled Jamie and bent her foreleg before him, inviting the young man to mount. Jamie met the peat brown eyes of his mentor.
“Go on, lad. She’s waiting for you.”
Jamie took one deep breath and mounted, burying his hands in the snowy mane. The mare threw back her head, meeting the gaze of the companions, and then walked towards the lake. Stepping into the shallows her hooves seemed to melt away as the water lapped around them. Jamie took one last look behind him, then set his face towards the centre of the lake as the deep water took them and he disappeared from sight.
Many things touched the calm acceptance that had suffused Jamie as he rode towards his destiny, but none broke through the barrier of conscious thought. He existed only in the moment, pure emotion incarnate. He felt detached, outside of reality and at peace with the rightness of his fate. As the waters closed over his head he did not fight.
On the bank, Alec held his sister as she watched, shocked to the heart, as Jamie sank into the depths. Merlin looked out across the water, searching with inner sight to see what was to come, but he could not pass the barrier of the shifting waters. All he could see was blood. From the deep, cold centre of the lake, a great bell tolled.
Available in paperback and for Kindle via Amazon
Paperback: Amazon UK Amazon US Kindle: Amazon UK Amazon US
“…and the swords must be found and held by their bearers lest the darkness find a way into the heart of man. Ask the waters to grant guidance and tell the ancient Keeper of Light that it is time to join battle for the next age.”
Rhea Marchant heads north to the wild and beautiful landscapes of the Yorkshire Dales where she is plunged into an adventure that will span the worlds. The earth beneath her feet reveals its hidden life as she and her companions are guided by the ancient Keeper of Light in search of artefacts of arcane power. With the aid of the Old Ones and the merry immortal Heilyn, the company seek the elemental weapons that will help restore hope to an unbalanced world at the dawn of a new era.
I stood on the cliff watching the crystal clear waters of the brook dancing merrily down the slope. On the cold wintry morning,as the trees shivered,they carefully preserved their green leaves and looked morosely at the brown grass. The harsh winter had shorn it of its verdant splendor. They took solace from the dancing brook that was brimming with life.
Continue reading at The Indishe
Listen to the birds sing up high
Lovely as the winter’s stream
Come to me tonight in my dreams
Vanished like a dream so it seems
As our lips touched we’re such a team
But I don’t know the where and why
Continue reading at Lady Lee Manila
Light
Streaming
Heavens’ gift
Illuminates
Life, land and soul
The sun-cast shadows
Maintaining the balance
Encouraging clarity
Assimilating the darkness
Realising a sacred purpose
Unifying apparent division
Cherished and indivisible marriage
Perfect both alone and together
In symbiotic interplay
Lending colour and contrast
Permitting perception
The invisible
Made visible
Becoming
Something
New
*
Perhaps it is the place of fate to make a mockery of life. One can only fight so much against the lot to which fate has seen you cast.
It will be a life condemned by one thing or another, the choice which fate would offer. To be destroyed by any action which I could take, and with equal measure so would I be undone with inaction.
As a stream split by stone or rock only to meet itself again, so is my choice this day. I could only wish that in one moment, to all the paths which fate would lead, to all the ways I go, I could only dream of being as the waters down below.
Continue reading atThe Ederren
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 