TheForest

Sometimes at the edge of the gate and fence I see a shadow forest. In silent midnights, trees that never grew here loom closer, waiting.

Broceliande is drawing closer.

I have traveled the inner paths and the shadow paths. I have sought and found Broceliande, and walked under the inner silences of those trees.
It is the Perilous Wood of Arthurian Legend. The Wood entered by each questing knight to test his chivalry, his intelligence, his knightly acomplishments. One enters Broceliande to test their mettle. Is he worthy of the quest? Does he fail or does he learn? Will he fledge as a Merlin or a Galahad or retreat to become a failed knight and turn to inflict his pain upon others?
Here is Broceliande. Always The Wood is closest when a sleeper wakes. You make yourself accessable but not safe, never safe.
You are the testing ground. Little good it would do young squires and would be knights if they cannot find your edges.
Are they headstrong? Are they Intemperant? Respectful? Ignorant? Harsh? Warriors? Magicians? You test them all. In your ancient paths their strengths and weaknesses are exposed. They face themselves. They face their greatest challenge. the face of truth, the mirror of their souls. Reflected from each pool and fountain and stone. It is not an easy task you set.
some are given to drink from the Fountain of Forgetfullness. For such knowledge is hard to bear.
Some stay to become Merlins.
Some walk the forest for love of itself, it's beauty, it's wildness and it's magic. home Pagan Radio