“As I set foot upon the spongy land of the marshes, tall reeds at my side mixed with the spindly uprights of the jetty, a hand reaches to me, to aid my step from the long, low barge. It has brought me and my brothers, hooded others from Atlantis, on the final stage of our journey. From beneath the oceans, to reach their surface and then to navigate the waterways of the Atlantean Avalon. The sun’s rays, rising now, glint on the glassy black gemstones at our necks, as we raise hands to brow and give the secret greeting, the one that only our kind know how. And she beckons us forwards, the air already heavy with the colours and scent of the dragon, that awaits us beneath the grassy mound of Annwn. It has been long since we talked, Draco and I, long since we gazed upon the sky together and the stars of our ever more ancient home.” – from The Serpent House of ZAL (forthcoming 2017)
With the vision still clear before my eyes, I gathered up the bag of offerings, of dowser’s pendulum, of the book of past lives remembered, of the image of a guide, to converse and to traverse the two streams. I crossed between the worlds, from the High Street of Glastonbury, the sounds of hands upon a handpan unfurled all around, to the High Keep of the Chapel Perilous, from the marshes and bogs of peat, to the cavern of the Sleeping One, deep within The Tor. For this is the eye of the Phoenix, one sacred animal in a land of sacred rebirth, in the hands of the dirt, in Annwn’s cauldron.
For Violet, for Charles and those who remember the Atlanteans of Avalon, the Druid-Kings come again.