I buried the book in the bog.
I died for it.
I had to.
It was inevitable.
Unavoidable.
I wasn't going to let that book be destroyed. It held the meticulous script and texts. Written in a sacred tongue, preserving oral lore.
So I gave up my life to preserve the book.
Sacrificing myself.
The horse reared up above me with a strong soldier atop. My crumpled form lay there, adorned with brown robes and brown wooden cross. I held on for hope until the very end.
I died upon that very bog where the sacred text lay buried.
As my body returned to the earth,
SHE gathered me home.
Holding me in her arms;
consumed by her immortal soils
as I became one with HerStory.
She sang me home to source.
We knew the bog would preserve our stories. We knew the texts were safe beneath those soils. Cradled within the roots of our ancient tree ancestors. Preserved alongside their gold.
Until such time as we felt the vibrations as messengers,
calling us to rise up,
for our stories NOW to be told.
Their cries rang out along the ley lines.
The ground rumbled her response.
Uphold the gold in these sacred texts that tell of the ancient lore. Of cosmic stories passed down in whispers direct to the hearts of the story keepers.
Uphold the gold!
The oracles, seers and witches.
The druids, monks and priests.
The bards, priestesses and nuns.
We are The Poets of old.
Oh wait til you read of our true adventures.
Of our deep knowings and spells!
Oh wait til you gaze upon the magic symbols that will crack your heart wide open!
We are resurrecting The Truth in these stories, encased in pure elemental gold.
We are resurrecting The Golden Grail by waving our magic wand.
Resurrecting the truth of Tara, of these ancient, timeless lands.
Resurrecting the knowing of what's possible now as we reach out our ancestral hands to you to walk into new ways of being.
We are your ancestors of then and now.
We are your future knowings.
We ask that you write us back into the scriptures now, remembering the sacred texts of Éiriú.
These books that you buried in the bog hold all of the ancient mysteries.
We ask you to remember now, all that you buried in that bog because...
Now it is safe for the wisdom to return.
It is safe to share all that you learnt, through the endless lifetimes you reincarnated here.
Including those lifetimes where you were burnt.
We ask for you to share this knowledge now.
Write, paint and draw.
Chant these mantras to remember your courage:
I am safe now.
It is safe now.
Your words are a gift to the world.
This is part of your legacy.
By honouring The Witches & Druids.
By honouring all those Wise Ones ~ their voices want to flow through you.
My whole body shuddered and trembled with all of this ancient knowing. As these words flowed through me, I knew that it was time.
I planted that book in the bog then to be found now at this time. To call all that wisdom back for the here and now!
I planted it like a seed that would sprout for these times to resurrect the gold.
This is the word of the witch and I shall keep my word!
I leave you with 3 last commands:
1. Resurrect Your Gold.
2. Excavate Your Truth.
3. Uncover the seeds of what you hid eons ago to support you and your work now in this lifetime.
Click here if you'd like support with the magical craft of soul based coaching with sacred storytelling sessions.
Within the fertile bog lies your gold.
With love,
Eimear xxx