As the thirsty and raw air gathers, there is something in the way it moves.
A union of dreamy days with robust, youthfully, antiquated, roots.
Outstretched maples seeking sun’s truth.
Always, am I, a half step behind to foliage’s peak.
Often blinded by the nature of mother’s feminine mystique.
The gods are gossiping at her secular feet.
Random thoughts, poems, and opinions. *Opinions are subject to change. - Nathan Harrell
Life and Relationship Coaching for Women Burdened by Emotional Trauma or Anxiety
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I am Brangien [Brangaine] of Weisefort, Ireland, lady-in-waiting to my cousin Isolde, who became promised to King Marc of Cornwall. His nephew Tristan escorted us to England by ship. But Tristan and Isolde fell in love at sea. As ye may know, or will find out, they cite the philter they drank as the cause, over which I was supposed to keep vigil. I would like to share my perspective of how I have created good in the world through my herbs and observations. There is much to tell, including how I have adopted this odd language. In good time. My life is in God’s hands. –Inspired by the modern French translations of the Tristan and Isolde texts
And he saith vnto them, Follow mee: and I will make you fishers of men. Matthew 4:19 (1611 KJV)
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Conciousness expansion, spiritually etc.
