The further we get from the centre of G-d, the more distorted our expression becomes.
…and yet, every filter can bring us closer…
You protect us.
Offer us shelter, keeping us safe in your thorny embrace.
Your flowers bloom in winter, keep the promise of summer. Summer rises in the air from the scent of your bloom as we sleep safe through the winters gloom, endure harsh bitter nights, safe in your womb.
Plant of the old, of prophesy fortold.
We honour you. Gorse of the Mother.
Gorse from the Other.
Spirit: Now you must learn to look for me in a different way my dear.
Your heart lead you to me before and you became aware of me all around you. Now you must learn to seek me in the smaller crooks and crannies. You must look for me in the in-between places. Find me in the liminal spaces.
Fear not my dear, I am ever near.
I hear your objections before you speak them. It will take time my lovely. Just trust in me. Love me. Dance with me as I danced with you.
Listen to me. Hear me. Touch me. Smell me. Experience me. Learn to see beyond that which you see with your eyes. Be open to me. Let your heart ignight as we burn, yearn for each other, as I know you do my dear, as I for you.
Witch: My Lady. My heart yearns for you. How can I find you here where man’s hand has changed and shaped the land so?
Spirit: Don’t be disheartened my dear, persevere. Remember. I am ever near.
Let their light shine through your eyes. Let their prayers whisper through your soul. Let their love kindle your heart.
Food for the Dead, Κολυβα: