When I moved to the oldest recorded area of the United States I had no idea how welcoming it would be. Its ancient history emotes an energy that I feel deep inside of me. The trees here are old and have seen more than we could ever think to remember. The water is a constant movement, but its gentle and soothing. The Spanish moss hangs low and sways in the evening breeze and with it, carries wisps of memories from long ago.

The first morning I sat on the front porch, I felt the embrace of my new home. The sunrise created a sparkle on the water, like thousands of diamonds. The giant magnolia trees shared their flowers and opened up big and bold right in front of my eyes. I felt I was home. Finally. As I sat and took it all in I could feel them speak to me, the ancient, the unseen. They call themselves the Old Ones. It is an honor to be in their presence and I sit in gratitude as I begin again.

The Old Ones

Our roots are deeply and forever grounded, where we are

Feel our history seep into your sub-conscience

Your heart and the stars

We are the Old Ones

Here to teach you

Protect you and lead you

From your own ego mind

So be kind

To yourselves, as you learn to remember

What you forgot

Learn to sacrifice

What you have not

Soar to the heavens and back

But stay on track my Dear

You are not finished here

Unwind your mind, still your thoughts

Brace yourself

For what you have brought

Is enough

You need not be so tough

On your soul

Share your spark, your light

So that others may see

Their way through

To the universal truth

That is us, that is now, that is you