She

She stood lonely on the mountain top, surveying all the World

She wandered back in time to when she was just a girl.

She looked over land and sea, her eyes wet with tears.

She searched for answers in the midst of her fears.

She walked the path back down, determined not to fall.

She answered the silent voice no-one but her could hear call.

She crumpled like a piece of paper, more than she’ll admit.

She moved forward step by step, determined not to quit.

She fell to her knees, laying broken on the floor.

She surrendered everything, leaving her baggage at the door.

She danced in the moonlight as the rain washed it all away.

She sings Halleluiah in praise each and every day.

She shines even brighter, now she walks The Way.

#TheWay #She #Halleluiah

Athena

Athena is home

The temple alight

old structures in dust

at her feet. She raises

her head to the sky,

in thanks. She calls

the artists, the singers,

the peacemakers, the poets.

Come out to play,

it’s our time now

Sing, dance, rejoice

Warm your face

in the rays of the sun

Breathe deep, deeper,

Deeper still, awaken

all of your senses

Let them lift you

higher and higher

and follow your heart

All the way

to Paradise.

Re-coding the Matrix

Copyright Rashelle Reid
Thomas Napier Speir Memorial, Paisley Abbey

The apparent overlaying of pre-Christian, probably Druidic sites, particularly in the more Celticised regions, by the later Celtic monastic orders would seem to run parallel with the view that the Culdees were the ‘Christian inheritors of the Druids’. In other words the same mystery wisdom teaching would appear to be central to both the Druidic and Celtic Christian philosophical tradition, especially when one considers that both appear to have employed the same principles embodied in an ancient sacred science. For example, the siting and format of their places of worship and also the use of holy healing wells.” Barry Dunford 

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St. Peter’s Well, Renfrewshire

“It would appear that in the remote past certain geomantic vortex points on the earth’s surface were found to be conducive for the interconnection between sub-terrestrial, terrestrial and cosmic influences and vibrations. A specific vibrational field was created by the interaction of these forces which proved conducive to spiritual activities and higher communement with other dimensional frequencies. It was at these geomantic points that sites of spiritual worship were often established, and thus we find megalithic stone monuments (circles, standing stones and dolmens etc.) and later temples, monasteries and churches, all strategically placed at these geomantic power points and almost always sited in some form of alignment with each other.” Barry Dunford

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Click here for more information on Visions of Albion: The Key to the Holy Grail by Barry Dunford. 

The Barochan Cross

The Barochan Cross
The Barochan Cross, Paisley Abbey
The Barochan Cross
The Barochan Cross under a stained glass window dedicated to William Wallace, featuring Samson breaking the chains.

The former site of The Barochan Cross in Renfrewshire is now the location of a war memorial.  It is possible, in the past this was a gathering site for the people to come together as a community for prayer and to discuss issues of the day. 

I wonder what would happen if instead of war memorials on the power points we had something celebrating the peace makers, the philosophers, the mathematicians, the astronomers, the musicians, the inventors, the artists, the mystics and the poets. 

My friend Robert Knox on a visit to the former site of The Barochan Cross, Houston

https://www.facebook.com/Vision-of-Albion-The-Key-to-the-Holy-Grail-1067260570023540/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Peter%27s_Well%2C_Houston

https://canmore.org.uk/site/43098/barochan-cross

https://ancientmonuments.uk/124181-barochan-cross-paisley-east-and-central-ward

http://www.scottisharchitects.org.uk/architect_full.php?id=203714

Nemo me impune lacessit.

Over the entrance to Holyrood Palace.

Photograph by Rashelle Reid
                                                                 Photograph by Rashelle Reid

Nemo me impune lacessit. – “No one provokes me with impunity.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nemo_me_impune_lacessit

‘Flourishing through ancestral honour’

Photograph by Rashelle Reid
Photograph by Rashelle Reid

Motto: Avito viret honore
‘Flourishing through ancestral honour’
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renfrewshire_(historic)

Sovereignty

 

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You can’t take away my sovereignty, it was gifted straight to me.

You can’t con me out my sovereignty cos all your tricks I see.

You can’t destroy my sovereignty, it’s in the life I’ve lived.

You can’t devolve my sovereignty, it isn’t yours to give.

You can’t buy my sovereignty, it comes with no price tag.

You can’t banish my sovereignty or hide it with a flag.

You can’t wipe away my sovereignty, like life itself, it lives on

You can’t erase my sovereignty by trying to change our song

You can’t deny my sovereignty, or weigh it in your hands

You can’t re-write my sovereignty, interwoven with this land.

 

The Unicorn Poem by Paul Edgar

Unicorns by Jim Warren
Unicorns by Jim Warren

The unicorn has broken free,

No longer chained to a tree

Back to where it’s meant to be

Freedom for the people

Symbology there for all to see

No longer held by false royalty

Babylon’s not meant to be

Freedom for the people

So just tell her majesty

The unicorn is now set free

They are no longer the powers that be

Freedom for the people

Spread the word and spread it clear

Out to those who need to hear

There’s no longer a need to fear

The unicorn is free

Love will spread no longer bound

What was lost has now been found

The chains thrown onto the ground

Freedom for the people

Now perhaps we will wake up

All drinking from the same cup

Realise what’s meant to be

Freedom for the people.

Paul Edgar, 2013

His name is Rabbie

Fountain Gardens, Paisley

When did his name suddenly change? 

These little thing’s drive me insane.

Eroding, erasing, deleting, distorting,

are our memories being contorted?

His name was Rabbie when I was a child,

When through the braes we still ran wild.

A man of the people with a message to share,

Encouraging people simply to care.

His love was like a red, red rose,

As through the world his message grows

We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,

Inspired by him we never met.

But when his words rest on our ears,

Please remember the things he held dear.

No lords, no masters only brothers,

Reaching out and loving each other.

His name is Rabbie, he was a Scot,

And I’d hate to see that simply forgot.

We’ve never called our men Robbie,

As it sounds too much like the word  jobby.

His name was Rabbie, remember him with kindness,

And don’t take part in the collective blindness.

No pomp and ceremony just raise a smile,

for the Scot whose words span the miles.

Happy Burns Day

http://www.rabbie-burns.com/

http://masonicsourcebook.com/robert_burns_scottish_poet_mason_rosslyn_chapel.htm