The Lemurian Hermitage
A hermit is a person who lives apart from society. Traditionally, this has meant living alone and self-sufficiently, but not always. This House of Solitude is occupied by a Hermit who came from the Lemurian Abbey to connect back to nature and enjoy the serenity and tranquility. She welcome guests. (All images on this site remain the property of the artists and writers, and it is their exclusive work. All images copyright 2007.)
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Ravens and Muses Sing In Unison
The Ravens and the Muses will all sing in unison Vi
for you and Ginger on Monday.
Know that all the spirit guides are with you.
love Heather
whose Muse loves to have fun
The Temple
Some of you may remember when I first posted this poem … it was in March of this year. Now that on Monday I am facing the possibility of another medical crisis, I post it again while asking myself where I went wrong. I’m a non-smoker. I drink a little wine once or twice a month and an occasional beer. So what the heck … anyway, here are my thoughts in verse.
The Temple
The temple, from the outside,
looks good—
well preserved,
considering its age
and the wear and tear it has endured.
But, when science ventures inside
and tells me of the scarring,
the damage,
and the graffiti of a lifetime,
I stop and wonder
where I went wrong,
where I failed
and why I did not notice soon enough,
or know enough to care for this temple precious?
Why was I not aware before
of the damage being done,
and the abuse unintended?
I am not ready yet
to implode this temple into the dusts of time.
I have so much more to do—
I must make amends,
make well this human edifice
that I have so long neglected.
Vi Jones
©March 8, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Lemurian Hermitage - Spring Renovation
Happy Wanderer
http://www.cafepress.com/createart/1229980 - direct link.
copyright Imogen Crest 2006.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Forgiveness
There was a lump in my heart
A knot in my shoulders
A heaviness about my person
A strained look on my face
And then I learned how to forgive.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Friday, July 14, 2006
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Last Dance
Some years ago I had to decide to stop dancing, rather than allow my health to downgrade my dancing I would stop before humiliating myself in front of an audience. I've not worn pointe shoes since that day, not even in private.
I took the last pair of pointe shoes, took them for one last spin and cast one of them into the garbage bin and left the studio. It was gutwrenching. The other of the two slippers I have kept, tucked away in my clothes closet.
Today I took my old friend out of the closet and we sat a while, thinking of old times, the times when I could fly. The ribbon was loosened and the shoe placed on the foot. It still fits, but without a mate I cannot take it for a ride. So with a sigh, the ribbon is tucked around the heel again and the shoe after one more portrait, was put out of sight again.