Spirit Mama’s Flower Song

Brittany, thank you for the little video!♥ 



White Wings


Visiting White Wing
Way over the hills
Thousands of pictures
videos and stills….

Brittany in Mongolia

Thousands of Spirits
Dance over spring snow
So many places
Where Energy flows….

DSCN0098 (800 x 600)

You just came home
But back yonder you go
I send my heart with you
And my Guardians below…..


You are my fledgling
Now soaring high
Together with White Wing
Over Mongolian Sky….

Brittany in Mongolia1

Rhime of reason

I  don’t know, I don’t know…

….shall I leave it , shall I go

I am toooo old,

I have no time

to put genetics

into my mind


Often in trance I see an array

of waving lines, that move and sway

asking my guides, what could they be

“It’s double Snakes, that you do see”

A double helix waves along,

but on its side, is something wrong,

That bluish blob does not belong.

What does it mean, that I there see

and what

for it

the cure could be?

will I learn that,

if I go

What healer am I,

that does not know…..


….……………….Mi-Shell J  February 21


= when I’m awake…….

and it is night….

when I am talking

to my guide……

when I am asking

for advice

receive an answer –

– not always nice…

blue owl

Passing along a beautiful poem for the Season:

A kind friend and fellow Tarot enthusiast just send this poem and I can not resist sharing it with you all 🙂 Enjoy!

By Richard DeAngelis

‘Twas the night before Yule, when all ‘cross the heath,
Not a creature was stirring, Pagan, faerie or beast.
Wassail was left out and the altar adorned,
To rejoice that the Sun King would soon be reborn.

The children lay sleeping by the warmth of the hearth,
Their dreams filled with visions of belov’d Mother Earth.
M’Lady and I beneath blankets piled deep,
Had just settled down to our own Solstice sleep.

When a noise in the night that would give us no peace,
Awakened us both with the honking of geese.
Eager to see such a boisterous flock,
We raced to the window and our mouths dropped in shock!
Frau Holda
On the west wind flew a gaggle of geese white and gray,
With Frau Hilda behind them in her gift-laden sleigh.
The figure on her broomstick in the north sky made clear,
La Befana was approaching to bestow Yuletide cheer.
From the south came a cornet more bright than the moon,
And we knew that Lucia would be with us soon.
As these spirits salted earthward o’er hilltops and trees,
Frau Hilda serenaded her feathery steeds:

“Fly Isolde! Fly Tristan! Fly Odin and Freya!
Fly Morgaine! Fly Merlin! Fly Uranus and Gaia!
May the God and Goddess inside of you soar
From the clouds in the heavens to yon cottage door!”

As soft and silent as snowflakes they fell,
Their arrival announced by a faint chiming bell.
They landed like angels, their bodies aglow.
Their feet left no markings in the new fallen snow.

Before we could ponder what next lay in store,
There came a slow creaking from our threshold door.
We crept from our bedroom and were spellbound to see –
There in our parlor stood the Yule Trinity!

Lucia, the maiden, with her head wreathed in flame
Shown with the radiance for which she is named.
The Lightbringer’s eyes held the joy of a child,
And she spoke with a voice that was gentle yet wild:

“May the warmth of this household never fade away.”
Then she lit our Yule log – which still burns to this day.
Frau Hilda in her down cloak stood regal and tall,
The Matron of Solstice, the Mother of all.

Under her we felt both safe and secure.
Her voice was commanding, yet almost demure:
“May the love of this family enrich young and old.”
And from the folds of her cloak showered coins of pure gold.
La Befana
La Befana wore a kerchief on her silvery hair,
The veil of the Crone who has secrets to share.
In her eyes gleamed the wisdom only gained by spent youth.
Her voice was a whisper but her words rung with truth:

“May health, glad tidings and peace fill this room.”
Then she banished misfortune with a sweep of her broom.
They then left a gift by each sleeping child’s head,
Took a drink of wassail and away they all sped.

While we watched them fly off through the night sky, we sight
At the wondrous magic we had found on this night.
And as they departed, the spirits decreed:
“Merry Yule to you all and may all Blessed Be!”

In Flight

over Uzbekistan

Desert below

Ripples of ridges, beige, brown, endless…

like an ancient lake bed.

The death bed of an ocean.

Mountains to the south-west!

Then again lakes, like teardrop shaped pock marks in the beige brown matrix.

Swallowed up by the vapour stream of jet exhaust

Flying into the setting sun – flying with it – hour for hour…

Delhi, Lahore, Peshawar, Samarkand, high desert

Turbulence, clouds and haze…

The plane turns, just a little…

It changes the view into a permanent rainbow!

Water vapour and jet fuel in the evening sun:)


Then a mighty river! The Amu Darya!

Roads, then a large town: Nukus.

The mighty snaking River is being swallowed by the rainbow.

Then the plane turns again, just a tiny fraction of a degree….

Sandy brown scragggggly mountains,

ridges rippling into the distance

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ somewhat like this…..

Falling into the Caspian Sea

Blue stretches below

the plane bows down, Russian air space demands it.

From 12.500 m to 11277m

from 800km/h ground speed down to 778km/h

Grosnjy, here we come!

Mother Russia is coy!

Hiding beneath a blanket of clouds.

Up here – turbulences dipped in sunset gold!

Gold dripping into grey

then into darkness

just wing tip lights blinking

distance to London: 4000km >> distance to Delhi: 2742km

Time for dinner and a movie…….