Recent Gatherings

100 UK Women Of Spirit To Celebrate

After attending a day held to celebrate these 100 women a friend wrote:

I think you may find this link very inspiring .
I was delighted to be there on the day due to one of the ladies I’d nominated actually
being one of the 100 women awarded, although Tensin Palmo herself was not able to be present on the day.
It truly was an inspirational day and raises the heart for our futures.

All 100 women, have worked in their own unique ways to touch life and lives with their souls’ hearts.
Their spiritual connection with themselves and others has gifted the world in so many different ways:

From a young 28 year old, second generation Indian girl, who joined the police force and refused
to attack  protestors and opened up dialogue on the front line and now the Met police are
helping her to extend this work. To a really sassy media lady who doesn’t tell the same old stuff,
a female judge who listens with her heart and chooses forgiveness, an MP , a poet  …….
so so many .
And they all keep on doing what they do and it really permeates out.
Just being given the opportunity to see and feel this was/is a wonderful reminder
of how each and everyone of us at each and every moment can make a difference ……
Our ‘gift’and the feminine ‘gift’ is this gentle yet constant out-flowing that eventually forms…..

There will be a list of all those 100 women –
currently it’s been worked on so that each and everyone’s ‘work’ can be accessed via links etc……

How We Found 100 Women Of Spirit:  link

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The New Is Already Being Born

In the midst of resignation and despair
The new is already being born
But if you look for it, you will not see it
It is invisible, hidden
Yet there none the less
The new already in formation
Inevitably so.This is the way it is
The promise of renewal already given
Given
Done
The blood on our hands washed away.

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Three Species Lost Every Hour!


Everything has death in it.
So many deaths in one lifetime
Death of cells, death of notions , of past loves , of youthful fancies and delusions
Out of all this death something grows.. eternal
A seeded moment
Inspiration ignites
A chance
A happenstance
A catalyst.

One drop of moisture  and the apparently inert, dormant dry desiccated life bursts open!

Hard and fast
Hard and true
A hard nut to crack
But crack it does
Yielding to the inevitable
Destiny we say
DNA
Dazzling New Arrival

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Slip

I seek the door of enchantment
To slip through the slit in a daisy stem
And come out into sunlight,
To pass through the green door
And be lit up again
By the enchanting breath of ferns
The neat-toed leap of a deer
And to know again that this light –
The light that makes the moss
on the beech roots ignite
Into soft-shaped emeralds – is reality
Not the scorned territory of childhood
And that I am right to seek it
Though I never know where or how the transparency
Between the two worlds opens.
I can only search the waysides
Until one foot slides into a rabbit hole
And I find myself face to face
with the coral eye  of the pimpernel.
Such meetings are small epiphanies that pop up
And open as flowers do each day,
Million upon million breaking
Their sealed lips for the first time
To let us in.

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The Unlived Unregarded Life

Consider the doors that remain unopend……

Silting though all the impressions of your life,
What about all those moments that mind and memory filters out?
Something notices, something chooses.
What now lies hiden?  sent to live the shadows, in the liminal,
Along with all that’s lost:
Like the creative idea never realised, an impulse to action never followed through,
Or the dream that isn’t remembered on waking,  opportunities are missed.
There have been choices made, that changed the course of the whole river
But what about the other streams we rowed right on past headless?

Will you look at me, take a good look at me and tell me what it is,
That you think that I am?

The words unsaid, the spaces between words, the difference between the word
That lies trapped between pages to those given voice.
The pregnant silences that remain undigested.
All the eggs that are reabsorbed back to into the womb of our comfortable notions.
The road less travelled, but this is the road not travelled at all!
No animal walks here, even the wind’s deflected past, the new season fails and
The soil lies bitter.
Like an archway standing in a field that cries out ‘ enter’,
But what happens now the arch has crumbled leaving only a bleak vista without
Any imaginings?
A doorway into this walled garden used to stand open,
Now even the wall is gone and the garden too.
Can you even hear the suffing as this tide turns?
Listen even the sea is holding its breath!
And who notices as night and day hang suspended?
And who watches for the boats return, the trail of salmon,
The flight of birds returning?
As we walk tracks of loneliness,
Sheep wandering in the hills.

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Wind Searches The Mountain

The soul searches the skin
Water searches the rocks
For the places worn thin
Where one gives and lets
The one into the other.
Under the great Twmpa the mountain God
Hunched, Atlas upholding rock on that muscled back
But one day he will break through – his hair
Will blow with autumn bracken
He’ll know the piercing hymn of kites
And how the sun warms
And then covers her face with darkness and starts.
When under the great mountain
The great mountain God stirs –
The flood of light concealed in matter released –
His back will turn to rippling gold
And each dark mountain thing – stone, earth –
Will surprises us with light
Where we saw only blackness.
Above the Twmpa the sun
Spawns tiny dragons, thousands of ragged mouths
Quivering as they rush and rattle
Through the universe flashing
Red-yellow tongues, eyes bugled to bursting
In the heat of release
Burning on the path to extinction
Feathering the trees, the mountain
Our upturned faces with warmth
Melting our masks, our pasts
Until no lines remain
No wall no skin
Until all lets go of all
And we are free
To run and lie in the shallow scrapes
In the fields with the hares
And are gathered up again
In her white arms, our pelts and hearts
Throbbing under her hand.

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The Edge Of Things

Fairy quality on the edge of the known
very very light
airy no things

Claim your space
space is no thing

We have to make space for this
no thing place
the magic rim
where worlds meet

Like the place of change
where working surfaces meet

The hand on the wood
the wood on the bowl
and the magical sound
that comes
and transforms the
unseen senses that receive it

The knowledge that was sound
and then silence
transformed into actions
which manifest something
more than the knowledge

Which carry it on and on
and on through different forms
continually creating

Seed forms
continually forming

Women coming together in
service of the whole.


Claim your space

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Listening Breath Of Delphi

-Opening-
Riven, Rent, Rupture
Crack, Cleft, Crevice,
Subterranean,
Subcutaneous Chasm.
Cavern of the Breath,
Breath of The Ancients
Breath of The Earth
Breath of The Mother

In drawn
In drawing in
Come into Communion and
-Listen-
As the child dreaming under the ribcage,
Belly deep.
As the listening yet unborn,
Hears whisperings,
Of all the hidden secrets of the heart.
-Listen-
As this seed distils
Settling onto soil
-Listen-
As this small perfect Universe of potentialities
Nestles into darkness.
-Listen –
Moist red warmth,
Smelling welcome
-Listen-
As soil and stone listen
To the stirrings,
All the possibilities that lie wakeful
-Waiting-
Imbibe this new soul’s essence
As the breath flows in
-Breath-
Open my heart!
This soul to hear
Thy Will
Your command To Be!

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Deep Listening

To listen:
The way skin listens as it prickles and tingles when it hears Truth.
Listen as your feet listen with their ears pressed so close to the ground.
Listen as your bones listen, hearing the wisdom of the Ancestors,
Forgetting nothing.
Listen as the womb listens to a new soul asking for a home.
Listen as your heart listens to Angel Song
Listen as each cell opens great satellite ears to the Universe.
Hear the New, clamouring all around,
Just there inbetween this space of silence.

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Comment On A Recent Gathering

Yesterday the impact of Sunday’s Women’s Gathering really hit me in as much as I realised
the actuality of people marchingfor the earth all over the world and representing
the indigenous voice while we met & held the clear ‘sun space’ as a portal,
and it seems that with what happened in the group and the images that arrived
the moment was about the love of mankind,the higher self if you want,
and the energies of the earth flowing together, a possibility for something to be lived.
It seems to me that the earth energy is ready & offering to participate
so we need work consciously with her .
The green colour of Absolute Truth held in the palm of the hand where the heart resonates
and is connected to maps of the world in the other hand by the enormously powerful Nature Spirit.
Can’t really put in to words what I glimpsed & felt but nevertheless share the feeling here.
What a wonderful day, thank you everybody

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