The Cruel Sister

“Breadcrumbs, as you like to say, Love.”

 

The Cruel Sister

There lived a lady by the north sea shore
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Twa daughters were the bairns she bore
Fa la la la la la la la la la

One was as bright as is the sun
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Sae coal black grew the elder one
Fa la la la la la la la la la

A knight came riding to the ladies’ door
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
He travelled far to be their wooer
Fa la la la la la la la la la

He courted one, aye with gloves and rings
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
But he loved the other above all things
Fa la la la la la la la la la

“Sister, sister won’t you walk with me
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
An’ see the ships sail upon sea?”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

And as they stood on that windy shore
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
The elder sister pushed the younger o’er
Fa la la la la la la la la la

Sometimes she sank or sometimes she swam
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Crying, “Sister, reach to me your hand”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

And there she floated just like a swan
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
The salt sea carried her body on
Fa la la la la la la la la la

Two minstrels walking by the north sea strand
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
They saw the maiden, aye float to land
Fa la la la la la la la la la

They made a harp out of her breast bone
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
The sound of which would melt a heart of stone
Fa la la la la la la la la la

They took three locks of her yellow hair
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
And wi’ them strung that harp so rare
Fa la la la la la la la la la

The first string that those minstrels tried
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
Then terror seized the black-haired bride
Fa la la la la la la la la la

The second string played a doleful sound
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
“The younger sister, oh she is drowned”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

The third string, it played beneath their bow
Lay the bairn tae the bonnie broom
“And surely now her tears will flow”
Fa la la la la la la la la la

Pathways

I asked for clarification on my path/studies the day before yesterday. I have since dreamed of literally going down into darkness for the third time. Last night I dreamt of being a “death talker” and the dream involved “taking in” the Spirits of the Dead so they could speak. There were also dogs again in the dream about going down into the Earth, into Darkness. Last night while poking around Pinterest when I couldn’t sleep I had suggestions for Nantosuelta and Sucelles. On Facebook this morning I came across a photograph of mushrooms growing from a deer skeleton. Will need to ponder a bit before I take any actions in regards to the Dead. Will be poking into Gaulish things and say hello again to The Mother of Rot.

Comments from the page Magic Mushrooms that posted it:

Interesting… It looks like whatever this deer was eating, most likely plant matter of sorts, had mushroom spores on it, ended up germenating inside the deers stomach, then fruited after the deer had died and decayed.
Photo courtesy of Lain Haigh.

This might also be of note, a couole weeks ago I first noticed that White Wings was back in the area. She(could be a he for all I know) was born or appeared about three years ago. I’m not sure if I don’t see her during the warmer months because she actually goes somewhere or if I’m just too busy to actually see her. She is a crow with white flight feathers and a mostly white tail. I managed to get some pictures, not the best quality but not too bad in regards to cell phone pictures. 

La Tène

La Tène

Breadcrumbs… 

  

La Tène,  (French: The Shallows), archaeological site at the eastern end of Lake Neuchâtel, Switz., the name of which has been extended to distinguish the Late Iron Age culture of European Celts. La Tène culture originated in the mid-5th century bc, when the Celts came into contact with Greek and Etruscan influences from south of the Alps. This culture passed through several phases and regional variations during the next four centuries as the Celts expanded throughout most of northern Europe and the British Isles, but it came to an end in the mid-1st century bc, when most of the Celts lost their independence to Rome.

Source: 

http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/326554/La-Tene#ref111430

   

           

Lent – Day 11 or My Thoughts In The Desert

Allah is the Many, the One and Nothing,
Male, Female and neither.

Allah has many faces, many voices,
Who am I to question the validity of any Path?

By communing with and honouring the many faces of God
Am I not following the Law of Love?
To Love all that is in Allah’s creation, in all it’s many forms?

If All has come from Allah,
All is Allah’s Creation,
When I speak to An Morrigan, Cernunnos, Cailleach Bheur,
Am I not speaking to Allah?

My People

Every time I watch a movie involving the First Nations I get this ache in my heart. Part of it is mourning the loss and decimation of whole cultures, another part for the difficulties they still face today.
The main hurt though is for myself and my ancestors. I can relate entirely to that loss of culture. But while the modern First Nations have at the very least some sort of Native culture to return to and learn, I don’t even have that. For example, my Sister in Law, she is Metis, her People come from the Prairies and even though she grew up here in BC far from her Ancestral lands, she has Nations here to go to, in particular the Squamish Nation. I have no group of people to go to. My “People” and their culture is dead. Granted I can go to the Maritimes and find the remnants of Celtic cultures and there are little pockets of surviving culture in The Isles themselves. It’s all Christianized though.

To get to know my People, my Ancestors, I must delve into books. That is where the ghosts of my culture reside. I suppose I should be thankful for that. There are countless ciltures lost without a trace. It still makes me sad though, makes my heart ache.

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