Lament for Thomas MacDonagh…

‘He shall not hear the bittern cry
In the wild sky, where he is lain,
Nor voices of the sweetest birds

Above the wailing of the rain.

Nor shall he know when loud March blows
Thro’ slanting snows her fanfare shrill,
Blowing to flame the golden cup
Of many an upset daffodil.

But when the Dark Cow leaves the Moor,
And pastures poor with greedy weeds,
Perhaps he’ll hear her low at morn
Lifting her horn in pleasant meads.’

  • Francis Ledwidge

An old, old photo…

this was found in a old family photo book – I restored and made digital. I have no idea who this person was but I love this photograph. She appears to be wearing a bird or thunder-bird phoenix type pin. She hails from a much more graceful time. I feel as if I know her although we never met. How strange. Perhaps memory encoded in the genes/DNA. Probaby Circa 1900’s.

More good news…

My three month lab tests came back showing my PSA went from 357 to less than 1 on this treatment. That means a slowing down of the cancer cell growth. The Dr’s high end of three years survival could be possible. So I was happy about that result. Right now I’m doing good and getting as much done as possible before it is no longer possible. It’s an odd feeling to get used to in your life but I know there is always worse. I still feel very blessed…

Almost as if it knows me…

A couple years back, a catbird slammed into the sliding glass doors. I looked out to see a lifeless bird laying there.
So I placed the bird on a napkin and gave it reiki. Eventually it came back from being knocked out and just sat there looking at me. I placed some water and seed close by. The next time I looked out – it was gone and had flown away. Perhaps this bird did know me…