Tagged: Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

Listen to Chapter One of The Bright World of the Gods, read aloud by the author

HERE she comes,” muttered Cerridwen, through glinting black diamond teeth, as the dark silhouette of a woman came suddenly into view against the pinkening skies on the horizon, running across the top of an undulating field before vanishing again into the dew-laden deeps of the darkening gloaming.

Cerridwen’s wizened snake’s eyes had been scouring the horizon for hours, while she stirred her cauldron with a long silvery ash stick that was almost as gnarled and twisted as herself.

With one black eye firmly fixed on the ever-duskening fields in the distance as the setting sun began to cast its long creeping shadows, she watched from the corner of the other as the Scorpion goddess constellation slowly rose, glittering like an ice crystal palace against the lapis lazuli celestial vault.

Listen to the whole of the first chapter of The Bright World of the Gods here:

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Rites of passage: how the wolves (initiates) are misleading the un-initiated sheep

By Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

Who trusted God was love indeed
And love Creation’s final law
Tho’ Nature, red in tooth and claw
With ravine, shriek’d against his creed.

I couldn’t remember where this line came from when I recorded my new video last night. So I looked it up, and discovered that it’s from Lord Alfred Tennyson’s poem, In Memoriam A.H.H.  The poem turned out to be well worth the read, in its entirety, because it’s here we see the false idea taking shape of a Nature that is separate from God, and that is ‘shrieking against his creed’.

This cognitive concept, of the divide between God and the creation to the point that they are enemies, was seeded during the Orwellian-named “Enlightenment” period that began a century before this poem was published and if was written today, we would call it psy-ops. Continue reading

The Bright World of the Gods – a real faery tale from the mists of Avalon

by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

This is a real faery story …

The Bright World of the Gods was gifted into my Dreamtime by the spirits of the land that inhabit the other dimensions permeating the Vale of Avalon, in Somerset, England. These spirits are known locally as the Gentle Folk, or the Fae, although you might know them better as faeries. They wanted you to know about them, and so my book is a real faery story about a benevolent Elder race whose role it is to guide the steps of humanity.

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