Filters.

The further we get from the centre of G-d, the more distorted our expression becomes.

…and yet, every filter can bring us closer…

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In A Younger World.

 Yuletide In A Younger World By Thomas Hardy

We believed in highdays then,
And could glimpse at night
On Christmas Eve
Imminent oncomings of radiant revel—
Doings of delight:—
Now we have no such sight.

We had eyes for phantoms then,
And at bridge or stile
On Christmas Eve
Clear beheld those countless ones who had crossed it
Cross again in file:—
Such has ceased longwhile!

We liked divination then,
And, as they homeward wound
On Christmas Eve,
We could read men’s dreams within them spinning
Even as wheels spin round:—
Now we are blinker-bound.

We heard still small voices then,
And, in the dim serene
Of Christmas Eve,
Caught the far-time tones of fire-filled prophets
Long on earth unseen. . . .
—Can such ever have been?

Gorse

Gorse. 

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.

Your flowers light the way to better days.
Hidden ways you reveal to us, if we spend but a little time with you, commune with you.

Plant of the old, of prophesy fortold.
We honour you. Gorse of the Mother.
Gorse from the Other. 

My Lady

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.