Happy ‘Harvest’

Hey Momma

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From Celtic roots, our family were grown,

back in the lands of Wales; herewith, addressing to atone.

Land of the singers, bards, poets, Celtic knots,

they were forbidden, then expelled, have we forgot?

 

Pagans back then, were they,

but misrepresented in history today.

As witches and abhorrence, burned at the stake

because they wanted to be free of controlling government states.

 

Times do, turn like a spiral,

what legends were lost in those times in memorial?

Writers of history, covered up the true facts

because they wanted our Celts, to pay their poll tax.

 

Understanding of these ancient myths,

seeking to discover, the fragments of forgotten bits.

Beautiful people, back from ancient times,

more indigenous cultures, are secreted in rhymes!

 

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No, you can’t turn back the hands of time,

although if by chance, you open your eyes,

You may be shocked, saddened and surprised.

 

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Changing the Stories we Tell Ourselves

Don't Lose Hope

The way we see ourselves, and the things that happened to us, are not true reflections of reality. They are merely constructs that our mind has pieced together.

Yet those constructs are believed, and they influence what we do, how we see ourselves, and our relationships with others. Thus, they’re very, very powerful, for they influence everything.

For example, if I think that you don’t like me … that you’re tolerating me … that the lovely things you say are really fake and insincere… then this will shape and influence how I feel and act with you.

It will become my embodied experience.

Mostly likely …

I’ll feel bad about myself. A bit unsure and insecure. And I’ll start to feel quite anxious when I’m hanging out with you. Perhaps I’ll stutter and I’ll stammer, and I’ll say some stupid things … for I can’t be my real self …

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