born beneath the acacia
~ wait watchers ~
episode 13
podcast coming soon
"The desire to be loved is the last illusion. Give it up and you will be free."– Margaret Atwood
Four rivers, four directions, like a compass, guiding course corrections. Yes, it's easy to fall out of balance in this world so changing, your emerald green sprigs, elements re-arranging.
There are many who look to human character form, in earnest to re-member ancient lineage bloodline born. But ancestral knowledge and those stories once told, shade from the Sun for the Acacia to hold. Oh dear doorkeeper, for you opened it all the way to me, but only for those gracefully grounded in this reality. Immortal soul many lifetimes flown, secrets of the universe, puzzle pieces once known.
Deeply rooted in arid land, under your evergreen umbrella many they stand. Strength of Sun, yellow flowering globe, like a golden light on continuous strobe. Pulsing waves, cosmically feeding, but with feet on the ground, so true lifestory leading.
Guardian and protector of knowledge and seeker, thorny branches wattled for in or out keeper. Held back by life and yet you try to force your way in, but there's another pathway past those lions twin. Simply stand before and prepare to be Seen, for the All seeing always knows where you've been.
Leaflets like feathers, bipinnate, gliding through life, no mortal fate. Land of the dead, to land of the living, but where is the end and where's the beginning. Born beneath the Acacia, you spread your wings, Sun godship for true queens and kings.
Streamline to fly through the membrane of the Sun, wings passed on from Mother to Son. Head of the Falcon, third eyelid closed but you still See, flying so fast through this great mystery. At one with Fire, yes you've walked the hot embers, the sole of each foot now warmly remembers. Journey of the Soul, so much to experience, but ready to return home in higher obedience.
Adoration of Mother, so proud of what you've become, agilely using these gifts, yes the darkness you've overcome. Honouring the Earth, for from it you were born, like Horus, bird-god, but in human form. The art of flight, both wings aligned, Earth Sky equilibrium, your chosen role to remind.
Born with spiritual power that none can deny, but the pain of being alive, so deep down you cry. Over my dead body, the Acacia grew, but it's from its branches the Falcon flew. Crown of thorns, ark of the covenant, burning bush so very relevant. Acacia wood, plated in gold, stored inside such secrets I'm told. But to hoard this knowledge and power, for secret society gain, hoodwinking human history, severing roots again and again. That period must now end, you've had your playtime, for these wings they now point to a one world heart paradigm. Careful as this storybook opens, for those not Earth rooted will be sprung into the Air, unable to reconcile, what's been really playing out down there.
Oh that burden of responsibility, weighing down on your shoulders, for this is the challenge here for those spiritual knowledge holders. Engulfed by flames, all that's no longer needed burned, take a deep breath, for that rite of passage you've now earned.
So I open my wings, white breast feathers so inviting, journey home with me through the Sun, its warm medicine uniting.
These are my own insights, but a great beauty of life is that of perspective, so how might others respond to the spirit of Falcon and Acacia, unbeknownst to this being the spirits they are receiving. How might they perceive them through their six senses. And whilst the Sun might Set it will always Rise, keep your eye on the horizon for higher knowledge other-wise.
There are many who look to human character form, in earnest to re-member ancient lineage bloodline born. But ancestral knowledge and those stories once told, shade from the Sun for the Acacia to hold. Oh dear doorkeeper, for you opened it all the way to me, but only for those gracefully grounded in this reality. Immortal soul many lifetimes flown, secrets of the universe, puzzle pieces once known.
Deeply rooted in arid land, under your evergreen umbrella many they stand. Strength of Sun, yellow flowering globe, like a golden light on continuous strobe. Pulsing waves, cosmically feeding, but with feet on the ground, so true lifestory leading.
Guardian and protector of knowledge and seeker, thorny branches wattled for in or out keeper. Held back by life and yet you try to force your way in, but there's another pathway past those lions twin. Simply stand before and prepare to be Seen, for the All seeing always knows where you've been.
Leaflets like feathers, bipinnate, gliding through life, no mortal fate. Land of the dead, to land of the living, but where is the end and where's the beginning. Born beneath the Acacia, you spread your wings, Sun godship for true queens and kings.
Streamline to fly through the membrane of the Sun, wings passed on from Mother to Son. Head of the Falcon, third eyelid closed but you still See, flying so fast through this great mystery. At one with Fire, yes you've walked the hot embers, the sole of each foot now warmly remembers. Journey of the Soul, so much to experience, but ready to return home in higher obedience.
Adoration of Mother, so proud of what you've become, agilely using these gifts, yes the darkness you've overcome. Honouring the Earth, for from it you were born, like Horus, bird-god, but in human form. The art of flight, both wings aligned, Earth Sky equilibrium, your chosen role to remind.
Born with spiritual power that none can deny, but the pain of being alive, so deep down you cry. Over my dead body, the Acacia grew, but it's from its branches the Falcon flew. Crown of thorns, ark of the covenant, burning bush so very relevant. Acacia wood, plated in gold, stored inside such secrets I'm told. But to hoard this knowledge and power, for secret society gain, hoodwinking human history, severing roots again and again. That period must now end, you've had your playtime, for these wings they now point to a one world heart paradigm. Careful as this storybook opens, for those not Earth rooted will be sprung into the Air, unable to reconcile, what's been really playing out down there.
Oh that burden of responsibility, weighing down on your shoulders, for this is the challenge here for those spiritual knowledge holders. Engulfed by flames, all that's no longer needed burned, take a deep breath, for that rite of passage you've now earned.
So I open my wings, white breast feathers so inviting, journey home with me through the Sun, its warm medicine uniting.
These are my own insights, but a great beauty of life is that of perspective, so how might others respond to the spirit of Falcon and Acacia, unbeknownst to this being the spirits they are receiving. How might they perceive them through their six senses. And whilst the Sun might Set it will always Rise, keep your eye on the horizon for higher knowledge other-wise.
* some participant names have been changed for pen names.
* no participants were informed that it was the spirit of Falcon and Acacia we were working with until after they had all shared their experience of the Session.
* no participants were informed that it was the spirit of Falcon and Acacia we were working with until after they had all shared their experience of the Session.