Psychic Philosophy for Today (7th March 2014)

With the inner peace and patients, like a fisherman who waits for a catch, although wiser there is double the effort for those steps to make.

The signs are there so can know at first what to expect, as that merchant who reveals their cause before to approach only are putting that cart before the horse.

Before to be kidding around and having a more gentle approach, in their maturity become more daring as to be warned by their features. Like to judge their appearance by the face they hide behind their horns.

Not the end of the road, just a change of tracks for where that music plays. For already being there it is the beginning where journeys start.

Grabbing an ear, not to listen to their words, to be guided for where to listen. Before heading into that cold dark place, a place that seems more pleasant from a distance.

Guidance to have in thought like a lighthouse to steer that ship to sail. Being that place wanting to get to only approaching rocky ground, their words they speak can be gliding in. Others rather not play that pawn piece and approach as that ruling head.

In the forest; upstream where the young women beat their wet clothes against the limestone, a stream where those buffalo come to drink. Having that split in land that keeps the buffalo that roam to one side while their washing clothes to the other. This an opportunity for the young men to show who is the strongest male. As they prance up and down the verge of the opposite side, flexing their muscles and being that dominating gentleman. The ladies barely flutter an eyelid, until a few show their weaker fallen side. Foolishly tripping over theirselves and falling flat on their face, now have drawn attention towards them and can only giggle from the young lasses. No one likes the fool, as the more stronger male continues to direct the plough that is pulled by the biggest beast of the bulls. Like taking charge of a large horned beast, that shows its authority with its glorious shiney furr, the leader of the bisons. Back where the soldiers show their head of camp status, talk to themselves for this secret kept under lock and key. By the large rock that hides their faces, not noticing the appearance in her form slyly blends in the rock Our Fairy Princess. Listening to this gossip, only their words have startled a nerve that calm as cool as a rock yet a mind about to erupt like a cloud to hover above.

In the stones; all wrapped with a pretty bow yet still need to climb that mountain or as some might put it take a running jump, as it takes two to do this dance there are some who are waiting to be chosen like being ripe for the picking, taking every little step so love can get that warm glowing passionate flame so to be that other-half of their heart that prince charming.


Psalms Ch.95:V.5 "The sea is his, and he made it: and his hands formed the dry land."