Of this my pen has worked before, The Hospitality of The Trees, Their Spirits, in a land, a people, not of me.
Spirits of America, your Nature, your land of great beauty you shared with me however, as my Spirit Snarls as The Wolf readies for The Kill, this land was ne’er meant for me.
I protected your Sacred Trees, Your Bears, all the wildlife you gave, that gave ecstasy to me from before the time I was three, yet, my Spirit, agitated and restless, it finds no rest among thee for this is not my ancestral land, where my Spirit yearns to be freed. ~excerpt Bring The Balance Back: Spirits of Ériu Return SEPTEMBER 15, 2017 ~ TÝR BLACKTHORN
Render respect of The Trees, even a stranger in the land ye be, and these will grant you the greatest hospitality.
The Magic of Trees man’s hubris has yet to explain to me. Beyond the Memory of The Trees, half a world away The Trees communicate, speak to me, yet man must rely on technology.
A precious gift, a photograph to haunt my consciousness, jolt my Blood Memory, confirm what The Ancestral Trees speak to me, from worlds away without the aid of mans failing technology.
The Trees in this land not of Me and Mine, kindly remind me with their whispered memories of the lands and the peoples, in and out of time, where my Spirit yearns to be; Freed!