The Alchemical Reed Magazine

By Clarity

Birch, The Paper of Our Wilderness of Words

Introduction:

Making spared the very most unusual, we begin to cover more territory and recognize more patterns of recognition, and become more realized in every motion in every day. We become the inherent code of all that we need to know, to be in sacred alignment with who we are.

We are folded twice, both in the once and twice told, each fold, a reminder of our origins. Within the seed we hear and see all that is, the elements of our own makeup tell us the stories from our Rooted Way.

Within our cellular makeup, we form the numbers, letters, words, and ability to tell what has been created in doing so. The equation adds up the amount of gravity, from grave to grave, and emits light each time as a marker.

4 dirt deep, we square our perspective and align ourselves with the Spring, the renewal of our growth and reemergence from underground. The dirt, still clinging to our hair, we comb our self-reliance with the teeth of our fingers, through it.

Digit by digit , we dig our way forward, the soil under our fingernails biting into the earth, making way for the dropping of seeds, a life within each, a story to come above ground with all its own color.

New beginnings surround us with the lighted hope of Life opening the door, we plant our own good selves into the depth needed to take root and form a lasting bond with our Mother Gaia.

Planet by planet, galaxy by galaxy, universe by universe, solar system by solar system, we do this, seed Life in whatever manner is appropriate and meaningful.

The mycelial network stretches across All, and is forever linked by past, present, future, and beyond Time. Space allows the continual growth of expansion, always bringing in matter, substance, from large to small, directly from the ethers, the field in which we are all planted.

Our Papered Awareness is bound by the expressionary energy that moves from the heart of the matter to the Soul’s Reach, the connecting factors that embrace us and give us solace.

Extraordinary in the magic that holds all together, we are fibered by the lineage of the Red Thread. Feminine is the Voice that sounds from the heart always, and the nurturing nature of Life is given passage.

As we come into this time, onto this page, into this volumed awareness, we plant ourselves yet again, a continual affirmation of loyalty and trust in the Mother Goddess Voice of Feminine Strength and endurance.

Our numbered awareness comes from the Heart, the digits form our handed way of Life and we foot our step forward through the alchemy of our lineage, ancient and forever expanding.

Those before, those present, those future, coalesce into this moment and reside in the consciousness called upon from a field of immense beauty. The Flower of Life remains centered, as we grow from the Sofiac Intelligentsia outward and inward simultaneously.

Keeping our momentum, the Birch Tree Gemmo fills us with words and the rooted longing is our deepest lineage. From the Tree of Life, the Tree of Knowledge, and the Flower of Life, a trinary code emerges and alchemy dives deep beneath the foot of step.

We keep pace with our listening, we hear the notes, the tones, the music, and we score the salt of our cellular nature. From both land and sea, we merge and emerge from the Water of our Oceanic Rhythm.

Counted on by ones own nature, we are gardened each moment, we are grounded each moment, we are planted each moment to light sound with our presence. As we corrugate the distance, we bring the radius full circle.

Placing the need forward, we step our grounded nature into position for the alchemical way of Made. Made to hear, made to see, made to express, we connect ourselves with our environment, atmosphere, and field.

Honoring the Sound of the Mother Tongue, we thread our way into the weft and weave of our fibered existence. Needled into precision, the note of E expands, expresses, and elongates the heard, so that the location of Home can be found with ease.

Ease through the limbs, ease through the trunk, ease throughout the rooted system, we are so deeply connected that the surface and the depth are known equally.

The equational synchronization occurs and the numbers, with their letters emit and emote the triangular frequency necessary for the geomatric formulations to occur Time moves its position into the expanding space of lineage, and the thread is pull taut.

The wilderness of our words spill forward, and the Papered Awareness gathers them up into bundles, that ignite the passion, so that movement can gather speed and its ratio will balance language beyond polarity.

Announcing no remedy for disturbance, the Gemmo speaks only of well-being, Compassion, and Love. This opens the heart completely to its calling and the Self is threaded into the Mycelial network of gathering.

Once placed within the embrace of community, the fibers thread their way along the Neith of netted communication, where sound is not broken, and meaning is Wholeness.

Birch, the unraveling paper bark that allowed itself to receive the paint of words, the ink of ideas, the rollout of Papered Awareness. Birch, the genius of possibility, the tree that holds the Gemmo, the vitality, new beginnings of what is needed to vitalize our world.

I ask for these beginnings a galaxy away, I ask for these beginnings from a universe away, and I ask for these beginnings in this planetary awareness.

Open the marker of Need, fill up the pen with ink of walnut transitional property, the creational gem that is held and the Motherwort mixes with the border of Hawthorn.

The climbing up is always managed by by Schisandra Berry, and our tight legs soften and allow the mudric flow up through our spine. The culinary feast of new sprouts of spring greens, and the culinary mix of mustard, celery, plantain, and dandelion all come up as a language that is part of the Wooded Way.

The Wooded Way being for many a long journey, of old and new traveling towards the sea. The requiem vest carried in bags, foraging bags worn by many on the journey.

Stones, ancient stones picked up on the way and placed in a basket of leaves. Round stones, weighted stones, light stones, black, stones, red stones, all part of the leyline of the new place.

A place of Will carried through Trees, a place of footage walked far to see, a place of an extended distance that supports the vision. My oh my they say, as they watch hidden among the Trees.

Clutching to the roots to hear, folded beneath all the wandering stones, the markle, the sparkle, the particle, all hang in the air, so those who are waiting have enough light to follow.

The ancient forward of distance moves through the forest of Trees, as they have come to give council to this world, and that is why they root down this planet, they root down into the rocks, root down through the ancient stone people, they root down through the moving waters, they root down through the crystals and gems, and they pick up all the memories of the Tree of Life.

The safety of the narrows, they congregate their rooted awareness through the above and below, they take the mycelial correspondence in through the full circumference of this planet, this is the Knowledge of above and below.

The holding factors of the conference of Trees is now narrowing through the mycelial tublial response, and the black hole of this awareness is full of content, potentiality, and creative awareness.

Making the mark of the footed print more aware of its fasting to the rooted way, and that there is nothing that Trees don’t know and see in our world, in all the worlds, all the galaxies, all the universes.

The notial nodial erupts from under the ground, from under the wood, and it speaks to the journey to the sea, and the Water is longed for, and the thirst is felt free in the mouth of future.

Quietly combing all the threads of power back into the comb of self-reliance, the tree rootlets become what wraps around the vine, and claims space above and below.

The expressionary folds of wisdom leaf into the hands of travelers and there is an emotionary resonance of the wisdom of Trees, and all feels safe and sound, and grounded in the wind, as the sea begins to approach.

As we wind our way seaward, our roots take hold of the nature of ionic clarity, the water misting our many branches, and filling us with a great hope. We manage the travel, the distance, and the folding through the corrugating factors of radius, circumference, and point of origin.

Embarking on the layered format of fractal stories, we can tell the tale of ancient as though it was today, this moment, this telling. Past, present, and future fold into the black hole of immense room, and the Portal is recognized as of great value.

Timing for the above and below meeting in a curve of such magnitude, the round makes its way into the center most position, and regulates the motionary energy to light the candle of wax.

The Melissa combs her hair, and the bee beneath her bonnet, revs the engine to pollenate each and every flower, turn home to hive and hive to honey and wax. The candle is wick, as nature is green, and lit is the flame of Intention.

Never intended for the flame to be put out, the wax is waterproof, and the wick moves through each and every plant. Planted are the ideas within each flower, and the Trees guardians the natural flow of information.

Revitalized, we are fed from the roots of our making, and the Home of Place, planted within the Garden Plan. As the natural occurs, the threading fibers weave their way, and travel through the network of Bee Neith.

Hivial levitation occurs, when mass meets weight, and gravity surpasses the grave of past. Light-hearted are those whose hands reach deep into the soil of earth, and claim the ease of the seed of passion.

As the Ger is stirred, and the shemmed rise occurs, the sight of elevation blooms into color, and the look of natural moves into the watched of seeding, so that what was under comes above.

Mycelial in nature, we watch as the garden grows ,and the longing for allows the passage from seed, to flower, to bloom, to bee, and becoming. Becoming more, the letters and number equate the distance from root to bloom.

Beyond measure are the seeds, the sands, and the stars, and we are as they. From within the size of a pea all Is, and we are no longer irritated by small, as it becomes immense.

Layer by layer we find ourselves grown through the letters of story unfolding, the bend and the crease mark us in relationship to our content. The Trees move the rooted system throughout the region, and the stars mark the way beyond relationship of limitation to containment.

The lift of spirit leafs out and the reach of sun penetrates the folded, to match the need and amount the count to a measure. Within the reach of Gold is the alchemy of resonance that precedes the knowledge, and the known is mystery and the mystery is surrounding All.

The Wilderness of our words follow the path of their own making, from the deep listening to the Mother Voice, pitched and pulsed along the Red Thread of becoming. We equate our heartbeat with the ease of her rhythm.

Needled into place, and homed by the fabric tapestried from the many-handed paper, the Tree roots the fibers into a mesh tight enough to hold earth into an orbit that exceeds itself in its travels.

Our Papered Awareness inks into position the story beyond judgment and proof, but rather the alchemical journey of travel into the smallest immense, and the greatest curiosity of the Creative Wonder.

As the vastness of our space opens to us, we amount our numbers into letters, our letters into stories, our stories into memories, and our memories are the lineage of Time.

Time affords us the space and space gives time the amount that includes. Including is all that the All does, excluding is all the nothing, which isn’t does. That which isn’t is no longer viable, and dissolves into the one element that transforms everything, Love.

Love, the heart frame that brings consciousness into being. We are the children of the tell-tale story, beneath the Tree of Wisdom, shaken from the bough, and rocked in a cradle, a situla of nestial significance.

Water by birth, Mer by right, we foot our step forward toward a landed position that marks us as arrived. Space is vast, and from that place we find home wherever we go.

Time comes and goes, place changes its perspective, but the orbit of our center, revolves around the pea sized dot, at the center of our center, within the roots we are connected.

Revitalized, fed, and raised with the awareness of beyond, the Bee All and end All, is in the hivial nest of honeycomb, sweet in layers and octagonal in shape. Eight, we ate the food of nectar, and with the Long Spoon we feed others the Light from the Sun.

Closure:

Creating an audience more our size, we acquire more space for the asking, and we narrow the bridge so that we can cover more territory. We speak the very nature of what we need, and allow no one to tell us that we do not know.

Publishers: Robert & Su.Sane Hake, Clarity

Creating circle of connection, awareness, support, to reflect upon each week.