The Lemurian Hermitage: November 2006

Happy Birthday, Vi

Hope you had a wonderful day

on the 22nd!

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Sequoia

Remembering Brian's Birthday today...

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Grand Tour

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Green Light

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Pines in the Sun

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Bright Chorus

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Linseed Flowers

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Cocoon - Endless Quest

"The further on I go, the less I know..."

lyrics from "Us" by Peter Gabriel.

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

The Path Well Trodden

That's me walking down a well trodden path... a path that brings us within. This is a path that one must walk alone... with death waiting at the end of it. What is beyond death I cannot see from here, but I can see enough to give me the courage to continue walking... at least for now... I continue walking because in walking I put a part of myself back into life... in walking I hope to show someone that a path exist beyond the limits of our sight.

This path can only be seen with the vision one's spirit... a vision that is born out of a desire for clarity. It is a path that leads within... towards the heart. It is a path beyond the sight of our eyes... a path that is audible only to the ears of our hearts. It is a path that quakes to the alternating beats of love and fear. It is a split in reality that reveals the possibilities beyond. It is also a split that epitomizes the fine border between the genius and the insane. Both stands out for they are genuine, but only one of them is productive and persuasive.

The other is lost in a separate universe of his own construct... a world that is just as real, only isolated. The rest who are neither genius nor insane are… well… simply sane. Our world is full of sane people, living in their own world but no longer aware of it, for they now wear the uniform of conformity, put on a tie of restraint and hide their emotions behind the mask of diplomacy. These are the ones who belong... to a shared vision... of relentless growth... driven by the rules of economics and politics…

The further I go, the more isolated I am from reality as I used to know it. The path within starts out wide and bright but soon becomes narrow and chaotic, leading me into darkness. It was in this darkness that I came face to face with my fears. I wanted to run away... to wake up from this dark dream, but the only way out of the darkness was to go through it...

It was during theses hours of desperation that I finally turned toward the light and love within and realize that no matter how dark and depressing it is around me, I have within me sparks of light that hold the potential to start a great many fires of passion.

I found myself laughing like a lunatic and out of my laughter echoes of light are born, cutting through the cold darkness that has been enveloping me. A fiery fire of passion emerges, giving the forest a golden luster that glows through the blanket of darkness. Shadows appear in various shades, dancing around me like a million daggers.

I am again besieged with fear. Rejection hugs me in its bosoms, suffocating me. The light was illuminating the forest, bringing out the shadows of those who have been lurking by the peripherals. They turn away from the light for their eyes are so accustomed to the darkness. Their shadows fall in front of them and they become aware of aware of the darkness that have been surrounding them.

There is a moment of clarity. The fear that is hugging me is no longer the same fear. This time I recognize that it is not my fear. The love and light shines forth with a greater intensity than before. The bodies of the trees are scorched and burnt by the heat... but with their return to ashes, their leaves are released from bondage… free… rising into the sky like feathers of a heavenly phoenix.

Love, Light & Laughter!
Namaste,
(c) 2006, Forest Spirit (a.k.a. Alex Chua ;-)

Homage to Blackbird

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

For Brian

copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Daphnia - a new Sparrowgirl Story

Just finished this one today.

Excerpt:
After we had moved to our second apartment in Hoogvliet, and my father had finished his studies, we suddenly started collecting pets. We had a dog, Cerbie (Cerberus) since I was about two, a half chow half wolf puppy, ferocious to others but my very best friend. Dogs are the sort of friends only children value above all others. I could dress him up in clothes or endlessly throw the ball or a stick. Because of his fierce loyalty to my well being I could go anywhere in the neighbourhood if I took the dog. The dog was a given, he was family, not really a pet.

What was new was my father's self indulgence of collecting up birds and fish. The first bird was Oliver a handed down canary my dad brought home from work one day (for mom, said he, but...), It was a lovely yellow bird with a ring of black around his little head like the hairlines of a Franciscan monk.

Read the whole story at www.sparrows.wordpress.com or http://aletta.org/Sparrowweb20.shtml

The Bus Station

I havn't posted is a while but Thrusday night we went to the bus station to pick up my daughter
and I had the chance to people watch of a couple of hours since the bus was late. it inspired the following poem.
Im not real sure where to post at this point but I hope this is the right place

The Bus Stop

where are they going
where have they been
what's their story
from bus to bus they go
their stories left untold
their secrets kept within
they travel for good and bad
they are out to explore the world
meet a loved one
say goodby
what are they doing
where are they going
their stories ,left untold
left to wonder by all who watch
they travel alone
in pairs
in groups
familes
but they travel
stories untold
secrets kept within
who are they meeting
what are they doing
is it a secret
or just a journey of the soul
will they tell if you ask
will they share their life with a stranger in a bus stop
stories untold
secrets unknown
life goes on
the bus goes on