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Caladur: Visions…

*

The hermit showed Ewan a path

which led under the cliff, into the wood,

and on to a thorn tree beneath which was a well-spring.

He bade Ewan return to him at night-fall with his visions…

“Become not weary of looking,” he said, “what you seek lies

within the purvey of spirits, and that takes time.”

*

So Ewan took the path and found the well-spring,

which had been furnished with a hexagonal stone well-head.

He peered over the rim of the well-head and into the water,

but all he could see was his own visgae and the thorn tree behind it.

*

Three times Ewan peered into the well and he looked longer

and harder each time until just as he was wearying of the endeavour,

the water in the well, clouded and cleared so that it was as if

he was peering into another world.

 

Caladur: Still Water…

*

…”Surely I heard a voice,” said Ewan,

“although that voice was neither mine nor yours?”

“I heard it too,” said the hermit,

“and many more like it before. In solitude

there will be voices as in still water, there are visions.”

*

As Ewan thought on those words he saw only before him,

the racing, tumbling, burbling stream outside.

“Where is the still water of your visions?”

“Not far,” said the hermit,

“but the looking is longer than way that reaches it.”

 

Caladur: Stream…

*

In the morning the hermit set two bowls

of milk with bread on the table,

and Ewan sat where the murmuring

of the stream outside came in at the window,

and a soft air came with it, and made his world anew.

*

Ewan ate with few words for his tomorrow had come

and still he knew not whether to stay or go…

He looked at the hermit as he thought,

and the hermit looked back and nodded,

as if he had heard all he was thinking.

*

At one time there was a voice which said simply,

‘For delight men stay but for desire they go on.’

An again the hermit nodded, though he had spoken no words.

*

 

Caladur: Twilight…

*

…When Ewan looked at the hermit’s face

he could hardly see it for the twilight

was covering him little by little…

Only, his two eyes stood out clearer in the fading light,

and Ewan’s heart lay open to them like water to stars.

*

‘The words I told him not,’ thought Ewan,

‘He has gleaned them with those eyes!’

*

Then the hermit stood up and went out.

When he returned he had brought heather and fern

and he made up a bed for Ewan beyond his own.

They slept as darkness descended.

 

Dear Don: Sheaves…

France & Vincent

Nick Birds SE Ilkley 2015 uffington avebury cropton Helmsley 049Dear 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?

v0_master © 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…

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Caladur: Threshold…

*

…So Ewan stood up

and went  to the door in the rock,

and called to the hermit,

who came to the doorway and stood

shading his eyes with his hand…

*

The hermit took in the figure

which stood on the threshold

and invited him into his cave.

He bade him sit at his table and eat.

*

As Ewan sat and ate he found himself

telling the tale of the child that came to his kingdom

and led him from it into his new life

as a wanderer of which this was his first encounter.

*

“Aye,” said the hermit, “desire is a child, yet will he

take a man by the hand and lead him away.”

And Ewan was astonished at the hermit’s wisdom…

*

 

 

Bent-Black-Sun-Day…

 

*

“There is one thing that still troubles me,” said Wen who really seemed to have the ‘Rapunzel’ thing stuck in her craw.

“Yaas,” said Don, in his most irritating drawl.

“Shouldn’t the seasons be sisters?”

“On what grounds?”

“Well, I’m presuming that Mother Nature is an Enchantress precisely because of things like her ability to transform the world through her seasons.”

“This is true, Little Grub,” said Don with the kind of tired air which suggested he would not be around for very much longer, “but the seasons are really contrived in so far as they are useful for sustaining our life through crops. Agriculture is a technology. A very ancient technology but a technology nonetheless. In that sense the seasons are man made.”

“And that’s why we can have the debate over whether or not there are really three or four seasons,” said Wen.

“Or even two. In the four season year there are really only two pivotal points and their inverse or reflection.

Wen considered this idea for a bit and then pressed on with her original line of thought, “so the brothers are really alchemists?”

“The first alchemists, adding their art to nature, I like that, Little Grub, can I go to sleep now?”

“Only if you give me something to ponder while you’re gone.”

“You seem to be doing rather well in your pondering without me.”

“But it’s not the same.”

“Why, oh why, my Little Grub, would the day of the king’s death be now known to us as Bent-Black-Sun-Day?”

*

A short time later Don re-entered the temple room somewhat bleary-eyed.

“Better?” asked Wen doing a poor job of camouflaging her excitement.

“You have been grubbing,” stated Don by way of an answer.

“The bent twig of darkness grows the petals of the morning and shows to them the birds singing just behind the dawning.”

“Ah, Little Grub, ’tis music to my ears.”

*

Keys to the House of Don: Heart…

rs-203*

…’Wen is still worried about the insanity of it all… but fairy stories only appear insane to us now because we have become so separated from truth…

As children we accepted their subconscious logic intuitively.

It both satisfied our sense of justice in the developing weirdness of the world around us and reassured us that all would eventually be well again… in fact… was still well… even though it did not necessarily appear that way…’

The Heart of Albion.

…”That’s both disingenuous and tautological, Donald Sams and you know it,” said Wen displaying her grasp of formal logical terms.

“It may though, simply be mischief with a serious point.”

Wen said nothing.

“We know the builders of the megaliths had developed pin-point astrological accuracy with their, still held by many to be rather crude, structures, which by definition are anything but.”

“Agreed.”

“So, why wouldn’t they load their mythologies with such information? Especially, if it looked like they were about to be wiped out for any reason.”

“They could do that but the stories would have to have been operating functionally in order to be properly seeded.”

“Well, who’s to say they weren’t? The combination of cosmological and psychological truth would make for a pretty harmonious culture.”

“The one constantly verifying the other and vice versa?”

“Pretty much.”

“So that would mean every character should have both a cosmological and a psychological explanation.”

“Pretty much.”

“I think I can probably work out the psychological attribution of the three brothers.”

“Oh, you can, can you?”

“They’re the centres aren’t they, and that’s why they built the king’s castle because in a sense they construct the Ego?”

“Yes, they’re the centres. The warrior is the heart… The wizard is the intellect… and the smith is movement.”

“But what about cosmologically?”

“I think it allows us to posit a three season year for the ancients.”

“So, why are the brothers seasons?”

“Because they live by the sea and could thus be described as ‘sons of the sea.'”

“Ingenious!”

“Things are definitely beginning to look up but you can jolly well work out the seasonal correspondences for yourself.” …

*

Into the Hill…

rs-224*

…And the Wood-Stone started to glow,

White it was…

*

rs-225*

And I felt an impetus to take flight,

but only as far as the end of the passage…

*

rs-226*

Which is just as well, otherwise, I would have missed the golden glow now emanating from the chamber…

*

rs-227*

And all the ‘statuary firing up blue’,

as whatever it was lighting the chamber,

slowly made its way along the passage…

*

rs-228*

Passed through me…

*

rs-233*

Or around me…

*

rs-239*

And then out…

*

rs-240*

A short time later, still in the chamber, we found ourselves asking the question to which that had been the answer.

And if you are curious to know, how golden was the chamber?

*

rs-231*

It was Liquid-Sun.

 

Inner Sanctum…

rs-208*

Further vindication of our unscheduled return was granted upon re-entering the chamber.

The free standing stone and the facing stone, which were separated by space and shadow, were both now holding the light.

The light that some say would not have been original to the monument.

*

rs-218*

From behind, the standing stone still looks like wood…

*

rs-220*

…Dark Wood.

*

rs-222*

Still a little perplexed by the experience the previous day at the ‘Chant-Eater’ we ran through the nine-fold chant and this time got some good effects.

The middle three seemed to resonate most favourably which, being the heart triad, would make a lot of sense here.

After which we re-made our dedication…

*

rs-243*

Our timing was beginning to appear propitious…

*rs-223*

But then we noticed that the ground was turning red…