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The Forest
Welcome to the
Forest.
Ages have passed
since the sunlight touched the first tree.
In here, time
has no meaning, trees can blossom and bear fruit at the same time.
When you are
very quiet, you can hear the trees whisper about their history,
about the secrets
that lay within the earth and about the power and magic of herbs.
Feel free to
wander through it, but don't rush....
Look
for general information about herbs, their healing powers and their magical
alignment. Herbs have many healing qualities and can aid in all healing processes. When you are suffering from something serious, always go and see a doctor as well!
general list of herbs and their magical allignments
general recipes
Red Clover
Daisy
Strawberry
Woodruff
Read
about Ogham, the tree alphabet of the Celts
Ogham
Asheroth speaks
Introduction
The Tree of Life
Garden of Delight by William Morris
The Two Trees
-by W. B. Yeats-
Beloved, gaze
in thine own heart,
The holy tree is growing there
From joy the holy branches start,
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
The changing colours of its fruit
Have dowered the stars with merry light;
The surety of its hidden root
Has planted quiet in the night;
The shaking ofits leavy head
Has given the waves their melody,
And made my lips and music wed,
Murmuring a wizard song for thee.
There the Loves a circle go,
The flaming circle of our days,
Gyring, spiring to and for
In those great ignorant leavy ways;
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the wingèd sandals dart,
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.
Gaze no more in the bitter glass
The demons with their subtle guile,
Lift up before us when they pass
Or only gaze a little while;
For there a fatal image grows
That the stormy night receives,
Roots half hidden under snows,
Broken boughs and blackened leaves.
For all things turn to bareness
In the dim glass the demons hold,
The glass of outer weariness,
Made when God slept in times of old.
There, through the broken branches, go
The ravens of unresting thought;
Flying, crying, to and fro,
Cruel claw and hungry throat,
Or else they stand and sniff the wind,
And shake their ragged wings: alas!
Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:
Gaze no more in the bitter glass.
Back to the Entrance
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