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:
by Bob Makransky
In order to communicate with plants (or people), you have to be able to regard them as your equals. If you are afraid (ashamed) to talk with homeless people, beggars, crazy people, etc. then you’ll also find it difficult to talk with plants. However, it’s actually easier to communicate with plants than it is to communicate with people because plants don’t have defenses and self-importance agendas in place to engage our own defenses and self-importance agendas. Continue reading
One of the greatest challenges I found in writing my new book, The Bright World of the Gods, was the love scenes. There are three of them, between three different couples, and while they’re not explicit – it’s not Fifty Shades of Grey – I do linger on the scene a little longer than is polite, and so your specs might get a bit steamed up!
You know how in movies when they delicately cut away to the window and the curtains are blowing gently in the breeze? Well, I stay with the action just a few seconds longer than that. Long enough to bring the scene alive, anyway. Continue reading
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
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.