 You’re the autumn fruit for the butterfly, a harvest for the bee.
Sweet nectar for the hornet, every insect’s joy and glee. To you they all do flock, to bask and feed galore. On clustered lilac stock, nature’s larder full and more. So much beauty to behold, from Small Tortoiseshell to Red Admiral. Such a potent candy store, plentiful chocs of salted caramel. All Lepidoptera they do descend, Cabbage White to stunning Peacock. Replenishment is that assured, with sugar hits like seaside rock. From fly and flea, to wasp and me, you’re such a homing beacon. As nourishing as the apple tree, whatever power we are seeking. To dip our tongue into your bloom, is heaven sent and made. To suck your bounty until content, from fullest flower to seeds that fade. What treasure it is that you do grant, to Brimstone, Painted Lady. Giving energy to the winter months, courage to bird more sure than maybe. For wings to beat and then to fly, to keep momentum up. Reservoir of nutrition in the bank, abundance floweth over cup. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.
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 In one I was wounded, brittle with fright.
In two I joined rank, for my life I would fight. In camp, on rota, I dedicated my might. In session, in fun, my poet-tree would delight. In three I found me, antler, horn and bite. Now towards the end, the reason is in sight. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.  What Effect Our Outer And Inner Critic Can Have On Our Physical Health. Many of you may well know by now that I have lived a large portion of my life being bullied, living under the influence of one oppressor or another, in a criticised or controlled environment.
Little did I realise that in subjecting myself to this sustained conditioning, that it could in fact be detrimental to my physical health in the long term, as much as it had contributed to my poor mental health from the outset. This was despite the amount of personal development that I had done over my lifetime to try to counteract it. Over the past couple of years I have become more aware of a stiffness appearing in my lower limbs, in my forearms and in my shins. I also had a similar feeling appearing in my back which was accompanied, on occasion, by a more nagging pain. I intuitively diagnosed for myself that what I was feeling was something spiritual in nature. This was most likely induced by a fear based trauma, connected to my bullying story. I felt that if I could only, in one way shape or form, find my way to infusing myself with love, or being able to love myself more, I might be able to shift this deadness within to feel far more lively again. Then I could free myself of this residual cobweb, these sticky silken strands about me, that were still remaining from the chrysalis shell I was trying to get out of, and my former caterpillar life. There are techniques to shift this type of pain within shamanic practice, trauma and addiction type work, which I can administer to my clients but it can be a far more difficult task to treat oneself, beyond ingesting flower essences, unless you can find another shamanic practitioner or complimentary therapist to help you. Fortunately for myself spirit seemingly wished to guide me towards experiencing three different therapists in the course of two years who all seem, in combination, to have initiated the shift needed within me, for me to begin to liberate myself. First of all I visited a lady called Kate Maryon, who synchronistically lives in a house called Walnut Barn. When engaging in her therapy sessions it soon became obvious to me that the symptoms that I was experiencing, all aligned together when I folded myself into the shape of a Walnut! When I cowered myself up into a fetal position the pain in my forearms sat right alongside the pain in my shins. Once more immediately opposite lay a hinge in the small of my back that carried pain also, these were my stress points. Small is the operative word here I feel. For when we play small and go into our shell throughout our life, subconsciously at some point our soul realises that this doesn't really suit us anymore, even if the ego has depicted this should be a survival technique for us to adopt up to now. We naturally want to be bigger, to unfold, to move from the caterpillar we have always been, to becoming the butterfly we were meant to be. Our Walnut therefore wishes to be cracked open. Also through Kate's work I came up with a fairly comic, but affectionate name for my inner critic, the aspect of ourselves that wants to keep us small. I nicknamed him 'The Nutcracker'. This rather poignantly relates to a sketch from the Blackadder series in the 1980's where Lord Edmund Blackadder asks Baldrick, his faithful servant, 'Where is the Nutcracker?' and Baldrick replies to him 'Oh it's his day off!'. Although we may smirk and laugh at this statement, this program was aired in my early teens, whilst attending secondary school. This was one of the heights of the bullying periods experienced within my life. I lived in a house with my parents across the street from my first obvious foe who existed outside of my own immediate household. Seemingly envious of a loving family and a privately owned house it was put forward that I lived in a stately home, compared to him, with servants, a butler and therefore a 'Nutcracker' that existed in human form that was at my service. I became the butt of all of his and my traitorous friend's jokes. 'The Nutcracker' however when manifesting as the inner critic doesn't aim to crack the hardshell that protects the tasty kernel of goodness that lies within, it just aims to hold it in its grip with a pincer like movement, a vice, that restricts movement of the Walnut to zero. Over time this creates heavy energy that is absorbed into the body and deep energy work is needed in order to be able to shift this fear based phenomenon into a more dispersive loving feeling. Some months after Kate's awareness raising sessions and workshops I serendipitously came into contact with another woman called Sarah Jennings and her Visibility Gateway course. I felt I needed to engage in this training because something was holding me back from being the person I really wanted to be. There was a mask, or veil, hiding my true light. Again this was most likely caused by the bullying scenario I had encountered in the past and the critical, controlling behaviour that I was still experiencing in my life. Sarah uses LEAP Kinesiology in an absolutely amazing fashion that connects us to our meridians, amongst other things, throughout our body. By massaging these sacred spots within our make up, we begin to free up this stuck, fear based energy and start to feel an element of freedom within. The rigid deadness that accompanies our everyday existence begins to loosen, and a tingle of energy connected to our life force starts to shift and shake about us. This type of therapy began to give me relief, with a feeling that the key was beginning to turn and I was starting to unlock myself. However on completing her course I still felt that even though the energy was now shifting I hadn't really cracked the Walnut. So, I was eventually steered by spirit into the path of Michaela Williams. Michaela practices a Superconscious Trance Healing technique by way of her QRISTA Method that when combined with a certain energy frequency meditation track compiled by shamanic practitioner Richard Down really cuts to the chase. In listening to Michaela's recording of the session, not once, or twice, but three times I had the feeling of stiffness within me disappear. I am now 100% better, I am not noticing the stiffness anymore, which I am absolutely thrilled about, as now I feel free to do the work I am meant to be doing on the planet. When we begin to work with spirit in this way and connect more so with our internal, intuitive guide system we can be led to the practices and practitioners that we need to encounter in order to be able to heal ourselves of the conditioning, bullying and trauma that we have experienced up to present day. I cannot tell you how liberated I feel now, but I have an incredibly strong spiritual resonance emitting from me as I write this post to you today that would explain to me that actually I am writing about a sacred truth that is coming from deep within me. A special gift that I have to give to the world where I can assist you in finding this spiritual truth for yourself, when you connect with it internally too. It is only though experiencing these type of practices and wider shamanic healing, flower essences and life coaching or similar complimentary modalities that we can move beyond fear and return to love, transforming our 'Nutcrackers' and 'Walnuts' into nutritious kernels of food for our souls. If I can't help you myself with my shamanic practice I will refer you to any complimentary therapist I care to recommend for your own healing benefit of which any of these three ladies above come very firmly into that reckoning. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.  Each day, I stand upon the circle.
With gratitude, forever present. No thought, to yesterday or morrow. Just here, to witness lunar crescent. With orange, the dawn has broken. There’s dew, upon this carpet green. Sprinkled webs, still in the making. Spirit’s here, it already seems. On bended knee, a prayer is started. A prompt, once more to dance. Tobacco pouch, at the ready. To greet this day, with pure romance. Mayflies, hover on warm updraft. Wren, hops upon the fence. Blue Tits, in and out of boxes. Bees, buzz towards the scent. Golden shafts, draw me in connection. Stretching up, I peer to see. Beyond, I sense the black sun. My heart beats, to infinity. I call, upon the warrior. The nurturer and the child. Some days, it’s ever so stormy. Others, more benign and mild. There’s no change however, to this ritual. For I’m committed, to this path. A joy to perform, this spiral. With mirth and mirk, I bath. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.  What does it take, to make your best ever stand.
To go shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. Giving back to your brother, support to the land. Spontaneous in the moment, or otherwise planned. Placing arm around comrade, planting ally in heart. No longer to be separate, no longer apart. For together we are leaders, stepping forward as one. No task is too great now, no mission left undone. For now in the decision, one must make one’s own choice. To sacrifice oneself, for the sound of one’s voice. To lend support to a vision, an insight to a dream. An eye for an eye, no more authority meme. A contemporary figurehead, has more compassion to deal. To be true, more authentic, to love and to feel. To be centred and grounded, aligned and stood plumb. Not to be pushed, or prodded, placed under the thumb. For we’re not for turning, conviction runs through. Gauntlets are laid down, swords ready with crew. For now it is opportune, no time left to wince. Where we are at arms, no need to convince. We’re on our mettle, determined in our stance. Passionate for our cause, a campaign filled with romance. We’re the ones we’ve been waiting for, to that we hold dear. Our position is so solid now, we live without fear. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.  I look, into the eyes of the sheep.
She encourages me, to dive down deep. She chews the cud, and stamps her feet. Wanting me to announce myself, with my own rhythm beat. I wake in the night, and stare outside. The rain has gone, but the stars not quite. A veil there is, across the sky. But a twinkle still pierces, my own unique eye. For a portal has opened, and I can clearly see. A clarity through a window, all the constellations and me. All that I am is hear, near and far. If affirmation was needed, there’s a shooting star. I long for the sun, and the warmth to come. So I can honour myself, and all with the drum. To create a spark, and light a fire. In each direction of course, rekindling my desire. Gold and black, the totems are many. Butterfly, hover fly, caterpillar, two a penny. The star birds have come, and my spirits soar. There are crosses upon the sky, my heart begins to roar. Shapes in the cloud, to the East are seen. A crescent, a horn, a stag’s head I would deem. Back to the tent, there are musings a plenty. A standing stone is born, and incense very scenty. I sit, my back upon the tree. Such a beauty from a distance, just thee and me. In twig, in branch, in trunk, I love. Placing my arms around you, I feel supported from above. The daddy long legs is here, a symbol from another quest. Like thistle, foxglove, slug, panther and the rest. But to the golden orb, is where I must look. To a huge swallow on the wing, a herald of the book. I journey to the centre, to birth pleasure from the pain. And yet another message comes, in the lining there again. This time, fast fuelled fighter jet. Not like passenger this morn, that’s another set. There’s a goat-man on the hillside, smiling this way. A buzzard flies South to North, to him I must pray. His screeches, rise upon the upward draught. Where raven’s realm croaks, like a spiritual raft. The next sign that comes, is a bloody big splodge. In humour I laugh, joy in my lodge. Those black birds are at it, continuing with the climb. To the pen I must drop, until another rich time. Ash, rowan, sycamore, willow. Thoughts drift to me, from my altar and pillow. That orange great E, upon the white fleece. Won’t leave me alone, or give me much peace. Calling the shots, they dictate my next plan. A baa from the bracken, walk, stomp or just pan. There’s a rainbow where dawn breaks, and yet it’s still eve. Swifts dart along valley floor, so close I barely believe. A little bird comes, and tweets from the bush. A flaxen gleam upon the hillside, as night starts to hush. Bright satsuma against the blue sky, a chill wind doth blow. Lifting my wings, I fly, and go with the flow. My hairy friend is back, now silver and bronze. I almost stepped on him, bringing down my tonnes. All wriggled up in a spiral, he stopped me in my track. Unfurling form his curl, he’s off to hit the sack. An eerie cry rings out, from a circling bird up high. Not one but there’s two now, of the same flock or herd in sky. Masters of the hunt, when looking for their prey. It’s time to snuggle up, and bring an end to this day. Yet still there’s a heron now, rising form the river.. A full moon is on the up, all bar a sliver Winking at me from the canopy, inviting me into the mystery. Less questions in my mind, of my own forgotten history. In the last throws of the light. A moth bursts forth a-flight. Dancing upon the thistle spike. To a melodic thump of might. My paper now, is all a glow. Luminescent, to the backward throw. A distant torch, is seen a part. Of the heavenly body, tugging with my hart. The wild wind has come, disturbing me with hurt. Like the Hayoka at work, down in the yurt. I dream of a horse race, where the leader is well clear. But there is trouble on the course, he is thwarted, oh dear! The buffeting of the tent poles, entices me outside. Where Orion and King Cepheus rule, no-one else beside. They call upon the warrior, the mighty king himself. Guardian, protector, hunter, chief of animal health. More visions come of Great Dane, and a flighty Jacob flock. On rising in the morning, the ovine have run amok. Sheep have come and eaten, my centre and my South. Scoffing all the berries, bar 1 or 2 escaping mouth. It is clear where the work is needed, for the freedom to come. In flexibility of emotion, curiosity, adventure, awe-some. Immediately there is a Lepidoptera, basking next to my chair. An opportunity for me to look a while, and just simply stare. For there he sits, wings open, soaking the warmth of the sun. I can park right next to him, and energise all for fun. Adorned he is in umber, burnt sienna, sunshine yellow. For me it is just a pleasure, to be with this little fellow. And then there is this tiny fly, of similar colour and nature. Pitching upon my written prose, aware of the bigger picture. In sunlight too is where he finds his natural home. Crouched small and humble, a new place to come and roam. Sat looking East we are together, like much of this journey’s core. Praying for the clouds to break, to be bathed again once more. And in a moment he is gone, one spring, one jump, one leap. To another place he’s alighted, but his memory I will keep. And so it is to all fours, down amongst the shit. Just like my woollen friend, who dumped at night, one hit. But now my attention’s drawn, to every blade of grass there is. To every barb and seed I see, every insect in green mist. For here there is an unnoticed sight, minuscule red eggs. Lined out across a very fine leaf, as if attached with pegs. And then there is this blue-bell, or lilac to be true. Ever the beauty in my space, adding yet another hue. Raven comes to call me, from the place of North and West. So near he is this time, I honour him with my best. Then settles wasp and fly, emblazoned with the noir et jaune. Colours that are ever coming to me, midnight, noon or dawn. I meditate upon my shield, my monarch of the glen. Images come to me of royalty, of women and of men. My flowers rock and sway, to a wind that blasts with might. But I stand tall with trust, for now I have more fight. Now to whittle a few hours away, upon the fallen wood. Twirl the talking stick, walk reverse, do you think I should? There’s freedom in this other way, something quite contrary. And there within the stalks, lies black and scarlet fairy. I watch her use the stems as roads, alternative tiny highways. I realise now I must tread this path, as my own soul bi-way. For here I am the man I wish to be, to do what I flippin want. This is my space, my life, my water from the open font. But here there is a thunder crack, the rain begins to lash. Have I upset the code, taboo, behaving rather rash? There’s a leak now in my lodge, a splish, a splash or two. I decide to take a leak myself, and hope no need to poo. But if I were to do so, I’m sure the fly of horse would come. As he has done this alvo, when pitched upon my tum. The underworld is opening up to me, down amongst the mirth. My spirit begins to speak with me, not heard since kin or birth. A shepherd gathers flock together, one man and faithful dog. I spot a sign upon the mountain, lifting all the fog. Tonight I heard a fable, of hunter, king and queen. And there within the gorse lies Cassiopaea, clearly to be seen. The unmistakeable W, courts marriage of boy and girl. Sheep upon the landscape, giving me the very pearl. And now the lunar skyline, is ablaze with peachy globe. Whispers in the breeze come to me, caressing me at the lobe. For here there is a peace within, of sun replaced by moon. Both apparent in the East and South, giving me of their boon. Tis the masculine and the feminine, where I seek balance at my core. The physical and the spiritual, to which I both must enter door. At night I dream again of marriage, 25 years to be exact. Hardly seeming credible, for partners 21 and 22, a fact. Written in silver bubble, upon the greying cloud. The message is barely visible, let alone to be read out loud. I ask the man called Beckham, a celebrity in his own right. If he knows the meaning of this invitation, this very night. There is a celebration to be had, as there’s an 18th birthday too. Two events at the same time, it could be a hell of a do. I also dream of three women, involved in a marathon race. Two out in front and one behind, but she’s got the devastating pace. Tis the third girl that is the winner, to ring the homeward bell. To scorch up the opposition, and give out triumphant yell. The night is framed with calling, of feral fox and chorus crow. Let alone the bloody sheep, getting ever closer now. Tis time to rise and see what’s next, upon the coming day. To once more go to well, and see what nature’s got to say. In morn I have this question, of what reverse C means to me. Evident in threaded bag, and pube upon my pee. Tis an emblem that has been here, from very origin and start. From sunshine in the sky, of ear, amulet or looping part. And so the answers come, with horseshoe on the tree. And the sheep that are ever present, not one or two but three. There’s a star within the crescent moon, upon my beloved ash. And a sea of flowers apparent, upon the hide I have as sash. Thoughts rise upon the Turkish flag, of dream centres I have seen. Of Islam, Appaloosian, and all the spirit plants it seems. For rose, and foxglove and thistle too, they create this very shape. To compliment my stag and sun, to be worn upon my cape. I delve upon the deer, I can see he starts to eat. All the medicinal plants, he stumbles on to meet. To the flowers I must go, and learn of this very art. As a buzzing bee insists, injecting ear with potent dart. And then amid dew drop belles, where thistle seed is strewn. I’m reminded of my fertility, and my own authentic tune. There’s magenta in the knapweed, and sandy coloured flies to find. There’s a boat upon my East, and happy times to mind. On back I sink to ground, and to whispy clouds I look. I see hoof prints in the cumulus, and ideas begin to cook. Another horn is there now, and face of billy goat. And then the copter comes, a great dragonfly of note. He disturbs me in my reading, visiting time and time again. The shamanic way being made known to me, upon the dale and fen. I wonder what can possibly, bring this story to a close. A thought constantly with me, one the universe does pose. Once more round the circle, where black slug is met and seen. Patience is the message, before a great stag has come and been. And then there is this gigantic cross, made up of trails of vapour. And perhaps another sheep or goat, just adding to this caper. When finally the clarity comes, it hits me in the iris. Stood upon a shoulder bag, of a fellow seeker and aspirist. There it is the stag I seek, stood amongst the flowers. Of pink and gold in crescent shape, a man at the height of his powers. And yet there’s still one more, awesome, mesmeric sight. Of swallow and that of house martin, swirling in full flight. Dance and dance and dance they do, in spectacular display. Round and round and round they go, at frolic and of play. And then the heron flies back in, landing plumb South West. What a quest I’ve had, surely its been the best. And if my name weren’t Running Deer, I’d have to have a think. It could be that of Swallowtail, I’d better have a drink. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.  Essences To Support You The Whole Year Through When a flower essence is created a bowl of spring or holy water is placed in the vicinity of the plant that we wish to obtain it from. The spirit of the flower is then invited to imprint itself into the water along with any other elements from the ether that wish to emphasise the quality and message behind this particular bloom.
Imagine, if you will, various nuances and subtleties of meaning, spiralling around in the atmosphere, that are just waiting to drop into place within such a vessel at this opportune moment, gently settling and coagulating within the mixture to establish an eternal bond, between floret and water, for our own benefit. This April marks the completion of a two year cycle with the Allies Of Nature range of flower essences. When an entire range of essences is created it forms in a very similar way to how an individual essence does too. It takes time for all the elements to come together, for each essence to circulate and begin to settle into its rightful place, for the collective to reach completion and the common purpose to be known. Little did I realise in the spring of 2019 when first being called toward the hedgerow by the abundant Blackthorn blossom, the inaugural essence of the range, of the journey I was about to embark on with all of the flowers that wanted their spirit to be collected from them to appear in my offering. The first 365 days of that voyage were all dedicated to collecting the 18 flower essences that now make up the individual spokes within the wheel. The second full rotation has allowed me to create poems dedicated to all of those flowers, plus, establish the 6 lunar and solar blends to be included within the package too. Now we are 24 essences strong. Equating to two essences for every month of the year, lending a complete annual support system, to any would be client wishing to embark on a personal development program with me. Like me, if you are to be an ideal client of mine, your primary life concern is likely to be something along the lines of how you are going to 'awaken to a life beyond bullying to claim your true power', for this is my story also. Each of the essences or blends in the range add a restorative quality to us that is often lost when we are bullied, controlled, criticised or conditioned to live our lives to others wishes. The idea of the range is to assist us in coming back to a place of wholeness and balance, one essence and one quality at a time, reclaiming our true power in the process. In April for instance it is the Bluebell and the New Moon Essences that come to assist us with our improved emotional wellbeing. The elegant, slender Bluebell encourages us to engage with our lost beauty, something that may have disappeared from us as early as birth itself, in order to gain an 'inner-sense' of who we truly are. Whereas, the New Moon Essence aims to embed a greater assurance within us of truly 'knowing our purpose' here on Earth at this moment in time also. So to May, with the Red Campion and Waxing Half Moon Essences with their respective qualities of connection and vigilance and so on and so forth, month by month, right throughout the calendar, absorbing further attributes such as courage, confidence, vision, enthusiasm, resilience and trust as we go. If this notion of gaining support from our fellow flower allies the whole year through truly resonates with you, then maybe it is time to get in touch with me and think about how you can start to benefit from the Allies Of Nature range of flower essences in their own right or as part of a wider personal development program with me. I look forward to receiving your inquiry by you answering The Call To Adventure now. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.  The Verbena Flower Essence & Eclipse Solar And Lunar Blend Well the last pieces of the jigsaw seem to be slotting into place now thankfully. It has been on my mind for a while to include my own personal essence that I collected on the final module of my Accredited Flower Essence Practitioner Course, in September 2019, into the Allies Of Nature range of flower essences itself.
I had resisted this notion at first because the Verbena is a cultivated flower, rather than a wild flower and I initially had wanted to keep the range pure with only wild flowers within it. However, as with the ceremonies I have been involved with in my three year shamanic training, it is important not to get too idealistic about the offering you are putting together, to be humble, act with humility and go with the flow in the way that you are being directed by spirit. After any vision quest that we encountered with Chris Luttichau and Northern Drum, on Chris' directive we used to drink Coca Cola as part of our ceremonial feast. A beverage belonging to a company whose ethics in the past have been slightly debatable shall we say, and that was the purpose of drinking it, after such a pure spiritual experience, so as not to be deemed too pure, or above life itself, in what we had just undertaken together. We are as much in the mire as in the ecstasy too, and thus the transformational journey that we are all negotiating in our own particular way remains a part of us wherever we are on that route. These are all qualities needed in the role of leadership and this is the essence of Verbena. It is a flower that stands tall, above a great many of its counterparts within the borders of our gardens, most notably in the Chalice Well Garden itself in Glastonbury where I ended up collecting this essence from. It is so tall that it can more or less stand shoulder to shoulder with us. It wants us to 'Make A Stand' with it, as if we are brother to brother or sister to sister. The Verbena will guide us as to what is required to be able to overcome a critical, controlled, conditioned existence as a caterpillar in order to start to lead and control our own lives as butterflies. With the Eclipse Essence too, this was a Lunar and Solar Blend that was sitting on the periphery of the range of flower essences also, it just kept calling me to be included within the rest of the offering and I am now beginning to see why. By adding these two essences into the mix I now have 24 flower essences or blends that can be utilised to assist people in their emotional wellbeing whilst they journey back to a place of wholeness and balance. I believe that all the essences are here to help us to 'awaken to a life beyond bullying to claim our true power'. Now with the addition of these two extra essences, my mandala of essences now looks balanced. It looks a thing of beauty in its own right as I will illustrate more fully in coming days. It is now possible to take two essences per month, chronologically, and gain support the whole year through from the flowers regardless of whether you engage in a fuller transformational personal development program with me or not. The Eclipse Essence initially came about fairly fortuitously, I had no idea when I set out to capture the Ox-Eye Daisy Essence on 2nd July 2019 that I was so doing on the day of the solar eclipse, until I read about it the following day. In this amazing synchronicity I then realised that I simply must collect the lunar eclipse essence too the following fortnight, on the 16th as I had a 13th Moon Essence to tie in for my range and what better than a full moon on a lunar eclipse in order to do so. That essence was one of the Red Valarian, carrying with it the quality of truth and message therefore of 'To Thyself Be True'. When combined with the Ox-Eye Daisy and its quality of vision and message 'Bright Eyes' it encourages us to go forward and be true to a vision that we have for our life, and therefore, to begin to 'Live The Dream', the one thing that we are truly meant to be doing within our lifetime. Here we set our course to the ultimate desired destination that we wish to reach in life. Both of these essences and blends hark to us to pay attention to our leadership qualities and what it takes to come into alignment with ourselves in the same way that the Eclipse itself indicates when the Earth, sun and moon all come into direct alignment with one another, heralding an auspicious time astrologically for us all. To find out more about these respective flower essences why not visit my newly organised shop where it is possible to purchase either of the new essences from. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you please feel free to do so below.  The question you must ask, the one you think to pose.
Is what is needed now, to bring things to a close. Of all the things we need to shred, the objects we must burn. Of people we let go, no longer our concern. For in unfurling bud, is promise of anew. Of hope of better things, of love that will renew. The petal shape of heart, leads us to our centre. A relationship in the view, of equal and of mentor. For now it’s time to start again, back at our beginning. Spring forth upon the year, no longer to be sinning. Our truth is what must now be heard, be sung like crested lark. To greet the golden morn, with melody and of bark. For us now to express ourselves, through call and that of prose. To trust in spirit of the plant, from blackthorn to primrose. Abundance there is here and now, in one full turn of wheel. Where all the flowers come to dance, to strut their stuff and deal. To bristle, shake, and dust self off, be ready for the go. To jump from block and starting gun, back in the mighty flow. For now we run as fast as can, charge head long on and on. To fill our day with joy and fun, rising orb to setting sun. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below.  She is in the moment, when the clock strikes three.
She is in the nighttime, when there's only loneliness and me. She is in the shadows, of the day long stress I find. She is in the emptiness, in the splinters of my mind. She is in the circle, of where it all began. She is in the landscape, walking hand in hand. She is in the weekends, in a past life full of joy. She is in the morrow, more authentic and less coy. She is in the fragrance, of a scent flirting with my nose. She is in the flowers, of honeysuckle and of rose. She is in the deerskin, a treasure to the touch. She is in the cards and gifts, that promised all too much. She is in the memory, of fun times often shared. She is in the heartbeat, of lovers who once cared. She is in the albums, of snap shots time's forgot. She is in the flame, that tries to burn the flipping lot. She is in the beach, where I go and sit and think. She is in the shoreline, as the sun turns clouds to pink. She is in the driftwood, washed up on the coming tide. She is in the reality, of a light that’s gone and died. She is in the body, of someone I don’t know. She is in the doorway, not sure to stay or go. She is in the onward, our destiny entwined as one. She is in the reason, for the journey still to come. She is in the necklace, of a new recruit. She is in the wood, in twig and branch and root. She is in the breeze, that caresses all the trees. She is in the spirit, that comes to set me free. She is in the counsel, of many a true friend. She is in the healing, of a human on the mend. She is in the woman, who I have not yet met. She is in the future, to settle an old debt. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2021 If you care to comment on this poem at all and the emotions that it brings up for you then please feel free to do so below. |
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