Helping
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I stood among them, but not of them,
in a shroud of thoughts, which were not their thoughts
The Nemeton
The Nemeton, was the Celtic term for the sacred groves.
The sacred groves conjure images of magik and mystery, of deeds done, lives well spent, and omens of tomorrow.
Through the ages, the trees stood sentinel, heard the soft tread of endless march of life, as within the groves were lit the Druid fires, spells cast and stories told.
Ancient heroes told tales of courage while flickering firelight cast shadows on taciturn faces.
Merlin and Aurthur spoke in hushed tones of battles of tomorrow, knights rested from their labors, while Cernunnos walked softly among them.
Morgaine carried out the great rite, Sirona walked the stars, and Taliesin sat beneath oaken shade, writing his words of wisdom.
Bloodied warriors lay down for the last time in the arms of the Goddess, while mothers breathed life into new generations.
Today, within the groves lie the words and spirits of those things which have passed, whispers of yesterday, offering the wisdom of the ancients, to those who will sit silently, speaking to the earth, and listening to the echoes of the past.
Explore
the sacred groves of yesterday, and today, walk the paths, hear the voices of the ancients, whispered wisdoms, echoing down through the ages.
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