The moon has cast a path of light Across the water straight and true From shores of Wales to Somerset In silver streams of peaceful dreams. Taken from introductory poem to chapter 1, page 4, To Sing with Bards and Angels, Iona Jenkins, O-Books 2022 Step into the magic of a creative spiritual journey As a child, playing on my maternal grandparents’ smallholding, or exploring woods and fields around my home, I felt comforted, and protected by a benign presence in nature. Today, as a writer, on the south coast of Wales, that presence still forms a conscious, integral part of my life and inspiration. One full moon winter’s night, I lit a candle lantern by the door of my balcony, facing the sea and English shore. Soon, an otherworldly being formed in my mind’s eye, evoked by the landscape outside, and the moon painting a path of gold, that gradually widened to silver on the night rippling sea. I called this being an angel, my benign presence had assumed a form of light, in the magic of creativity. Upon the luminous path, he appeared serene, tall as a tree, and pearly white with a halo of soft, colour flecked silver. I say he was male, though he exhibited a soft feminine quality, speaking through my heart, like a musical stream, flowing into words from my descriptive Bard’s voice, through pen on to paper. “I am your Creative Wisdom,” the angel said, floating in a circle of candle glow, and pale rainbows. When wisdom is added to the ingredients of any potion of inspiration, be it great or small, so will that potion flow into projects that enhance life on this planet.” The angel’s name was Astariel, and having accepted his offer, to step into the magic of a creative spiritual journey, my life became a poem, a song, a story, as his gentle wisdom lit up the pages of my book. Nectar collecting, the bees are buzzing In lush lavender bushes, purple tumbling Summer scented over grey stone walls The hives are alive and honey making. Breezes flowing through silver birch leaves A turquoise sky with the last golden sunlight In France this time is known as the blue hour Late afternoon, before the sun starts setting I turn my face and thoughts towards the west. Iona Jenkins 2022 A daily walk is an opportunity for awakening and refining the senses. This not only intensifies my experience, but often triggers a heartfelt expression of artistic inspiration. Since this awakening is inclined to light up both heart and mind, I often refer to these rambles as Wisdom Walking. I am forever delighted and surprised by the many new impressions I receive in familiar territory, at varied times of day, and throughout each season. In summer I frequently pass by beautiful lavender bushes, so lush with flowers cascading over a grey stone garden wall. The scent comes first, strong yet soothing, for these flowers may be used to make sleep pillows and bath infusions. The purple colour flows soft through my eyes, nerve calming, clearing softening. Yesterday there were only five or six bees, but today has brought a hive, swarming over the tiny flowers which are now almost at the end of their season. Growing such wonder bushes in gardens helps to preserve a dwindling bee population, which deserves and needs all the help it can get. I make my way through a local park, where I open my eyes for the first time, to a small group of silver birch trees. I have often passed this way before without really registering their presence, but today it is almost as though they are inviting me to enter their grove.
Walking with awakened senses, we enter into a relationship with the local landscape that nourishes us, we find richness in our environment in all its green seasonal magic, we discover our part in its legend, its life, its song.
Moving mindfully, I slow down, awakening to beauty and hidden mysteries. Following my Creative Spirit, I find my place in the world. I am a storyteller, a dream maker All my tales are a rich woven cloth Of mystical thread I spin from gold With dancing feet in the music of Earth I will sing you her life song of passion As my fingers draw down a web of stars To light her chalice the sky reflecting Deep cauldron of plenty overflowing This potion of peace and magic growing Bright flowers blooming colour scented. Iona Jenkins "To begin my poetic journey, I connect to inspiration through my senses, from which I develop awareness of my place within my surroundings and the influence they have on me as a creative being. Our early ancestors would have used their senses both fully and spontaneously like any other creature, because survival would have depended on their ability to do so. Today, however, in our modern technological world we can order goods and services in seconds on a mobile phone. We are now consumers instead of hunters and gatherers. We have many creature comforts, but alas, we are also a people with increasing mental health, environmental, and social problems. So why are we not satisfied? Why does happiness elude so many? In losing our connection to the Sacred Feminine, we have gradually been losing connection to the planet which sustains us - our mother the Earth. We have come to believe that we are separate, more important, far above the rest of creation. In creating too many boundaries, we avoid the oneness of our reality, and we are lonely as a result. We could learn much from ethnic civilisations living in communities with powerful links to the natural world and a great respect for the land that nourishes them." Iona Jenkins, poem and extract from p.58 and 59 To Sing with Bards and Angels, O-Books 2022 Embracing the Earth with respect, we can heal the fear that keeps us isolated, regaining our balance we can reach for the stars. It is then, we may also discover them shining within, illuminating all those deep space places, and singing soft in the language of angels.
May all beings find relaxation and connection in the warmth and light of summer. Iona I am standing on the beach With waves washing my feet This luminous threshold place Where worlds mingle and meet In a mystical magic of three The earth the sky and the sea Iona Jenkins, Midsummer, 2022 Now the wheel of the year has turned towards summer, I am spending more time outside, visiting parkland and green spaces on my way to the beach. The Celtic Ancestors, Druids and Shamans believe the shores and lakes of oceans to be thresholds, magical liminal places, where it was possible to glimpse the Otherworld and to receive messages. I can certainly see why, because after moving into an apartment overlooking the sea, my enthusiasm and inspiration to create through writing, has increased considerably. And it is true to say, that in this environment, I can experience spontaneous meditative states where pictures and words flood my imagination like the incoming tide, to be turned into poetry, philosophical meanderings, stories, or even simple life enhancing ideas, and truths I need to understand in my everyday reality. We are influenced by the landscapes we live in as well as the landscapes we visit, but to really become aware of this, we may need to slow down a little and take the time to connect. My landscape gives me words, images and colours, inspiration that enables me to create vivid images with words rather than paint. People are creative in different ways. I paint word pictures, descriptive prose, which I hope may speak to the reader's own imagination and in turn help to awaken their personal creativity.
Summer Solstice Haiku Sing in the sunrise On Summer solstice Morning The world glitters gold Blessings of Midsummer to all,
Iona "When I was a child, I knew how to take time out. Children don’t always walk in straight lines, they tend to meander about, following their imaginations. A child’s life in Britain during the 1950’s and 60’s was very different without today’s technology. I developed a wild independence, because in those days it was safe to be out in the countryside around my village in Yorkshire without the constant supervision of adults. People talked to each other and took an interest, so someone always knew where we were. In addition, I always felt shielded in the woods and fields with a sense that nature herself was taking care of me. I loved the land and the land seemed to nourish and love me back, like a caring mother. How exquisite and heady the wild rose with perfume fit for a queen. How full of life and bliss the summer in my heart, purple tinged with tufted vetch, red with clover and the pinkish white of tough stemmed yarrow. I would lie in green scented grass listening to bird calls and the nectar collecting bees buzzing. I was content, carefree, warmed by the smile of a golden sun in bright blue skies." The magical child in all of us is creative and connected. Too often I forgot about her during the many years of my working life, except during leisure hours spent on weekend walks in city parks and gardens, or along the river bank. Then one day after I retired from my therapeutic work and moved to Wales, she turned up again, waved her wand and changed me into a writer. On this warm May afternoon, she found me sitting on the balcony of my small apartment, breathing in the stillness of the pale blue ocean reflecting the sky, my pen skimming across the page as I listened to the voice of the sea. Taking time out, slowing down and reconnecting to the natural world for even a short time can provide us with a soul soothing, magical, creative moment in eternity. The Voice of the Sea The Inspiration ripples and flows as I listen to the voice of the sea in this quiet slowing down of time to a creative moment in eternity. Iona Jenkins 16th May 2022 |
Iona Jenkins
Sign up to receive Iona's posts by email.
Your email will only ever be used to send you new posts and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Archives
April 2023
Categories
All
|