Guest writer: Alethea Kehas – A girl named Truth

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Truth

open the room of my mind
search for me
within faded

doubt
listen to words
sing

My birth
There was once a girl named
Alethea

her heart sparked with truth

My mother always told me she found my name, Alethea, in a book. In my child-mind I created a tome perfumed with age, adding gilded pages over the years. Sometimes I imagined stories, filled with strong and beautiful goddesses, and smiled with the thought that I was held inside.

“It’s Greek,” my mother told me, “for truth.”

When I opened the book inside the room of my mind, I watched the pages unfold like the wings of a butterfly, and waited for a girl named for truth to manifest into form.

I never doubted the existence of this book, until one winter afternoon when I was thirty-six. That day, alone in my New Hampshire home, I cupped a phone…

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‘The Hill in a Dark Grove’…

Images and text from the ‘Ash and Seed’ weekend…

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Sunday saw the Company approaching our final Sacred Site…

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Re-discovering over breakfast that the burial mound of Bryn Celli Ddu had once been a henge and circle added an intriguing extra dimension to proceedings…

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Especially in the light of our recent speculations at Castlerigg stone circle.

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And there was the small matter of our ‘Anglesey Romance’…

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Which also still had to be wrapped up…

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The story of Amathus and ‘High-Priestess’, Camma, was brought to a fitting conclusion atop the mound itself.

The Pebbled Shore…

Image and text from the ‘Ash and Seed’ weekend…

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As our ‘briefing’ on Friday evening had elicited the information that several of our Companions were ardent pebble collectors…

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We thought we would get ahead of the game and trip down to scout for ours first…

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It did not do us much good though…

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The ‘Ardent Ones’ turned up and promptly set about picking some real beauties. Still, that was not really the point of the exercise…

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Which was, throughout the remainder of the day to imbue the pebble we had chosen with a spiritual quality which had served us well but which we had now outgrown…

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With pebbles to heart we set off for, ‘The Druidic Lake’.

Golden Hours…

Image and text from the ‘Ash and Seed’ weekend…

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It is difficult to conceive, perhaps, the birth pangs of a Giant which stands for a land mass…

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Or indeed our part in the long course of such millenial process…

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Straddled symbiotically betwixt earth and sky…

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It may be our role to link…

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‘Nadir’ with ‘zenith’…

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And in comprehension, walk on…

Circles Beyond Time – Joy

Journey To Ambeth

img_3714This is the final instalment in my account of my weekend away with The Silent Eye. Please click here for parts one, two, three, four, five and six. And thanks for reading!

After our dawn excursion I returned to the hotel for breakfast, then packed and checked out, as Arbor Low was the last stop on our weekend adventure before I had to head to the train station. I was picked up by two of the companions and we set off, sun shining as we wove through the countryside. The Peak District was glowing with late summer, green fields lush with grass and replete with cattle, the rising slopes rustbrown with bracken and heather. Before Arbor Low, we were to have a quick stop at Monsal, where ice cream could be had while taking in a glorious view of the valley and viaduct below.

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