August 1, 2003 Spirit One Weekly eNews Lughnasadh Special Edition

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~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~August 1, 2003 Spirit One Weekly eNews Lughnasadh Special EditionISSN: 1543-8074eMail Issue ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Welcome to "Lughnasadh Special Edition" A Free Monthly Publication of New Age and MetaphysicalNewshttp://newageinfo.net

 

Fiction/Essay ContestWe will feature a fiction/essay contest. The topic of the story can be anything pagan/metaphysical/new age related. The entries will be judged by New Age Info, Alternative Market Place staff for content, form, and topic. Rules: The essay must be between 300 and 5,000 words, and must be related to Paganism/ New Age/Metaphysical in some way. Poetry Contest We will feature a new poetry contest. The topic will be over any general pagan/metaphysical/new age topic. The entries will be judged by New Age Info, Alternative Market Place staff for content, form, and topic. Rules: The poem must have at least 10 lines and no less than 60 words. Overall Rules:Rules: Entries are eligible to be accepted at any time. Any entries received after we do the drawing will be put into the next contest. Entries are due 10 days before the Sabbat. Next Contest September 20, 2003 You may not win this contest twice in a row and no more than 2 times per year. Contact submissions

 

All entries will be posted online at http://alternativemarketplace.com/library and in a special edition of Spirit One, http://newageinfo.net special contest editions to be issued on every SabbatPrize: Product choice from Earth Spirit Emporium. Free shipping. submit entries to:submissions~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Winner of Poetry Contest Great Horned Spirit By Rochelle Lester~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Awestruck, I stand,How can this be?That you have been given as a gift to me? Once,You soared,In the twilight across my lawn,Silent wings spread,In a prayer that reached the dawn. Although you no longer bless the sky,I hear you speak,I hear you cry. My heart beats the rhythm of your flight,My beautiful,soulful,relative of the night. Cougarwalker (" Rochelle Lester") 7-16-03 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Winner Fiction Contest I Miss My Moccasins ByGreta Morrison ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~I miss my moccasins. I just thought I'd say it. Oh, Ihave two other pairs but these were special. They weregiven to me two years ago last February.Coincidentally, I've been searching off and on sincethe New Year for my two other pairs. This particularpair was ceremonial. I had received them in barter formy prized Tennessee (very cherished) arrowhead.Originally, they belonged to a friend of mind, fromQuebec.He stitched them to fit all cozy and protective aroundmy feet. Recently, my friend visited. He comes to thestates every year, particularly to The SequatchieValley in Tennessee. His favorite competitive sport isand shall always be Hang Gliding. Every year, theSequatchie Valley hosts an International Hang Glidingcompetition, which brings over 100,000,000 people tothis beautiful historical valley of ours. He has fivefavorite places in the area and today, we sit atEnglish Cove, high atop Whitwell Mountain. The breezesare cool and festive, just right for flying, and thesky is a pale robin's egg blue. I imagine that I amplacing a large handprint against this ceruleaninterior of oblivion. In my mind, my hand dissolvesinto the azure mist, and a larger more protective handof divine logic and reason gently take my fingers inhis. It is a beautiful day with more than the promiseof fulfillment, but the actual contentment ofhappiness that now wraps around our spirits.Now, you would think that being a good man and knowingI acquired this particular pair after a month ofgentle coaxing and heart rendering persuasion, hewould extend his well-muscled arms to assist me inthis search. Instead, he replied, "You have outgrowntheir purpose. Wait for a new pair." Then, much to mysurprise, he extended his hand up at my beginningprotest. He repeated the same words in Tiwa, CanadianFrench and Sioux (you would think he thought I wasgoing to be disagreeable). I decided to quietlyprepare for our ceremony. Now, today is Sunday. Cloudsmet Earth here, so it's very easy to let appreciationrule your dreams in this private haven. Once a month,we celebrate the creation of all, in prayer. Theprocess takes close to four hours or more. Wereconcile with the two-legged, four-legged and wingedto enjoy beauty, truth and peace. There have beenmoments where I've forgotten to include everything.Now, I calmly accept there may be some things I maynever remember to include but it in no way diminishestheir effect on changing my life. My heart speaksvolumes in its own silence and I imagine everyoneelse's does too when they listen calmly to ourCreator. While my friend joined the birds for two hours or so,before prayer, I decided to ground my dreams. Earth mysenses.. That's what I call it when you feel as ifyou've lost something that perhaps you never reallyhad. The moccasins were after all on loan to me fromthe Universe. Possessions are possessions in titleonly; we never really acquire the need to ownsomething. Simply, put, we trudge through life andexpress our wants from time to time. I've learned asecret I shall share with you.We, as people never bartered for people, places orthings, we show gratitude for our experiences and OurCreator sees fit to bestow us with the one thing thatis priceless in bartering, the time to enjoy what wesay we want to experience. That's the miracle ofliving. The time given to us to experience thesewonderful events, places and people that we feel bringlife meaning. The honor of my moccasins was earned in the barter forthem. The value of the barter itself was what broughtme to the table and what ultimately brings all of usto the table. Yes, I have outgrown my moccasins butthis brings another question to ponder. Do we outgrowour purposes before we attain them? Or have we alreadyattained our purpose successfully, outgrowing thevalue of the barter? Do I miss my moccasins or the comfort zone? A littleof both, actually. Earth your senses. Let all that isgood within provide for you a unique purpose so strongand so right for you that the treasured moccasins youreceive will last their journey. Is it really yours?Or only here for you to respect and love for a shorttime? Either way, you were chosen and given permissionto receive those moccasins for a particular season inyour life.Do I really want them back? NO. I'd like to find a newpair, more suitable for me. I'm on a new path. At theright time, I will receive the right ones to wear onmy newest journey.I know my path. It is secure, true and beautiful, evenwith my mistakes integrated into it. Like all goodthings a wonderful adventure begins with a singlestep.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Poetry Submissions~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Gift of the Elements ***I went to the edge of the world ,to talk with the water today.And found once i reached her calming shoresi wasn't alone in play.The airs soft coolness had kissed my cheekwith breezes so gentle and dearcalling out to my heart so recently piercedthat "its" love ...too was hereI laid down my book as the waves slightly ragedin calling to my mind"Find peace in what "isis" ment to be"your path is true you'll find At that i glanced down upon the page wheremy thought had left me blindas sight gave way to the gift belowa leaf so green had found the bind"You..can not meet" it seemed to profess"without the earth at hand"With airs aid gently she caressed my face with the lightest sprinkle of sandI sat there quite bemused at this elemental gathering Then the clouds began to fade and the suns warmth it did bringAnd as loneliness gave way to peace atmy waterside retreatI saw the elementals had brought me a giftand laid it at my feetA teeny tiny hag stone they call the witches stoneWith perfect love and perfect trusttake heart you almost croneby water ,air,earth,fire and spirityou never are alonei went to the edge of the world todaythe elementals reminded me to smileso i thought I'd sharearewynn/kelly lawson~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Peaceful Sky ***Blessed by the light of the Moon shining tonightStars sparkling in the clear skyWhispers of spring in the night airDraco looks down with a watchful eyeSuch beauty found in this deep blueYour surrounded on all sides A wonderful presence of creationDoesn't matter where you live, what walk of lifeThe same beauty can be seen from any where in everynationHow can it be we who live under all these blessingscan be so different?Not able to see eye to eyeHunger, diseases and destructionChildren going with outAnd yet we all share this same peaceful sky. Wendy Needham2-20-03~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** The Wealth I Take With Me ***By Michael Levy.I feel very comfortablewaiting at the stationticket in handafter ninety-one yearsI am prime and delightI have a few momentsbefore my transportertakes offtaking me homemy mirror reflects onto birds merrymakingtrees gentle sway in the fresh, cool airchildren's laughercrisp breezes friendly lucent sunraindrops on my glossmelodic melodies of charmlove of experiencejoy of beingI will take these reflections with meOf everything elseI have no need.http://www.pointoflife.com~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Water Flows ***The water flows by me without A care like I am not even hereIt rushes pass like the wind But cares life with in it .But some waters are calm They just sit quietly and wait For some living soul to come apond them and release them from Thier quiet world.Have you guessed that the water I speak of isn't wetBut of another kind.The water I speak of is from the human soul....And it touches so many lives and I hope you allow it To touch mine cause mine has already reached out andTouched yours and others like you.By Michelle~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Mask of Love ***By Suzanna KennedyYou cannot gaze upon me, belovedFor then you would know thatI am here at long lastYou have grown used to the longingThe dreaming, the fantasizing aboutThe someday lover who will satisfy all your desiresTo see me in all my gloryWould remind you ofYour own magnificenceYour own DivinityTo unmask meWould be to unmask yourselfTo let your own lightShine brightlyWithout shadow or filterSo I will wear the mask of loveAnd dance for youYou will feel safe enough toDance with meAnd when we fall to the floorIn joyful exhaustionThe clock will strike midnightThe masks will dissolveAnd we will merge togetherIn Sacred Unionwww.realitycrafting.com~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Free My Soul ***I walked through life afraid...my strangeness set meapart.... As I grew, so did all my senses. I traveled down many paths... Unsure of my destination. I danced for the sky... I sang to the trees. And now I stand, on the verge of inspiration. I listen to the Ancient Voices. I Chant, I Dance, I Trance, I Drum! Sacred Mother & Great Spirit, hear your daughter! From you I was born, and to you I shall return. By Carol Klavon~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Beneath the Willow Tree ***Beneath the Willow Tree I stand beneath this Willow Tree, surrounded by the trappings of modern life... But in the whispering of the leaves, I can hear the crashing waves of the home I've neverseen. What is it you are trying to say to me? Why is my heart filled with this longing? You are only a tree, covered in leaves and peelingbark... And yet, when I stand beneath this Willow Tree, I hear the faint strains of bagpipes... And the pounding of feet and drums... Reflecting the heartbeat of our Mother. So though I was not born a witch... I shall die gladly as one... beneath this Willow Tree, listening to a few strains of the Ancient SongBy Carol Klavon~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Maiden, Mother, Crone *** Maiden, Mother, Crone Maiden.... Mother.... Crone.... By whatever guise you reveal to me, By whatever name I choose to call you, May I always feel the presence of your love, In both light and shadows. I feel your breath in the winds. I hear your song in the thunderstorm. I understand the wisdom you send to me in dreams. Maiden... Mother.... Crone.... As your priestess and your daughter, I tend your cauldron. I guard your Sacred Well. I heal your wounded flesh, and in turn, learn to heal myself. Maiden.... Mother.... Crone....By Carol Klavon~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** From the North *** From the North, the Earth, the power of ground I pull the energy from all around From the East, the Air, the power of Wind Clarity and wisdom I will try to befriend From the South, the Flame, the power of Fire Know that my workings are truly direFrom the West, the Oceans, the power of WaterMy chants and engry grow in power The Moon, the Mother, she shines thru And Father, the Horned One, he is here too And as I drawn down the forces that be I know much of the power must come from within meFor all their strenghth and as powerful as they areWithout my own will I may as well just wish apon astarFor helping and assisting they usually will doBut not untill my own effort has shone thruFor if I am not willing to help myselfThen why in the stars should anyone else? All magick must start from within. Lilith~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fiction Submissions~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Things She Remembered ***Written byGreta Morrison The way his azure blue eyes sparkled when he saw her.His voice as it grew deeper whenever he spoke hername. The familiar way he protected her. His abilityto make her feel safe and secure, giving her peace ofmind. Blond hair, always worn short, so she could lether hot breath escape on his neck. The excitement athaving him for a playmate. The manner with which healways circled her waist before he whispered, "I loveyou" in her ear. The happy times.The way he always paused before speaking when hisemotions were triggered. The firm set of his jaw whenhe became jealous. His excitements when she wouldcasually run her fingers along his arm, and end thetrail resting her palm on his inner thigh. His abilityto perceive when he was so right for her and she soright for him. In certain moments, she remembered howbrave he was to face the world head-on when all shewanted to do was cower within the walls of her home.How he accepted her...oh, God, he was so beautifulwhen he just accepted her for who she was...neverbecoming critical or judgmental...always quick toexpress his compassion or concern. Most of all, sheremembered the ways he loved her. The happy times.The way he would match his breathing with hers, thensecretly tease her, by trying to hold his breath ormaking her squeal. The way he pondered every avenue ofa problem and the many solutions. Her complete trustin him. The forgiveness he embraced her with. He knewher better than she knew herself at times. She remembered gentle hands that caressed and strokedalong her body until she cried out in ecstasy.Bittersweet memories of her desire mirrored in hiseyes. She remembered losing herself within him....Never wanting to return from the place she was insidehim. Touching him, feeling his ragged breaths as heautomatically pulled her to him. So many things toremember. So many things she felt were illusionscreated in her mind. All of which might have been. She chided herself softly for the lapse into memoriesthat brought pain even today. Closing her eyes torest, she asked her heart softly, What does one dowith remembrances whether truth or illusion? ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** THINGS SHE'D FORGOTTEN ***Written byGreta Morrison His anger at her refusal to let go of her artisticfreedom when faced with their government'sintervention. His annoyance at being placed a secondpriority in his opinion. Her unusual pause when askedif she would come back to his unconditional love ifever separated from him. The way he admired her desireto know the sunshine and the rain, and stay in lovewith each. Her endless skill to pinpoint exactly whatupset him about her and provoke him. She'd forgottenhow he'd told her of resting in fields of wheat, andmaking love to her with his mind.... The excursion hadprovided him with a fulfillment that brought survivalin his opinion, the day when he wanted to escape theobligations they had committed themselves too. Themisplaced anger that he directed onto others whenupset with his own insecurities. This too, she hadforgotten along with the jealous nudging of her owninsecurities. She had forgotten the inner battles andstruggles that both of them had fought in order tobecome secure with their love for each other.Sometimes, winning, other times, losing.The sacrifices they had made to rise above theirpolitical adversities and dedicate themselves to thepeople of a nation that needed their love for peace.Her mind created a dim blur when it came to the innerstruggle she faced with becoming his wife rather thana puppet. His absences proved to be bittersweet whenher spirit sought peace within both, independence andsurrender with him. The bargaining table.... She had decidedly soforgotten the bargaining table where their fightswould escalate each time over media compromise andexploitation. A government who tried to own thembefore they ever made the first sign of profit...andtheir own struggle to assist their people withprogress and change. In the end, his compliance to thethree-ring circus called democracy...her spiritburning with the refusal of being compromised asproperty. Artistic freedom to write and perform asthey pleased music everyone gathered to hear..the famemeant little when it confined her people rather thanset them free.Glimpses of a torn country stabbed their hearts untileveryone's future was uncertain. Their nation dyingover its political unrest. So much fighting in thestreets with so much green, fertile land.what wasgoing to become of their home? Their country? Warsbeginning within back yards and neighbors suddenlychoosing to fight one another as enemies. Theirbeloved country lost within its own evolution andturmoil and all she could do was cry at times. Foreveryone and everything. Their longing for a family knowing they were on a paththat would never find its way to safety, much lessnormalcy.She had forgotten the sudden overwhelming feelingsthat surfaced when she lost everything, including him.She had forgotten how despondent and abandoned she hadfelt in the midst of dreams that collapsed. Her body,mind and soul had fallen from his lofty perch known asidealism. And she had become so very lost in theefforts to restore her vision to clarity.Her mind totally erased the memories of the crusadethey had embarked upon. Forgotten hopes and dreamsplayed center stage in her subconscious and his forthat matter.She had forgotten through this fog of her misty mind,how comforting his arms were when wrapped around her.How he had vowed to erase all her tears...children?Oh, yes, children, lots of children, born of theirblood, because he would love anything created by them.She had forgotten his vow to love her...to never lether go.All of these she had at one time held onto with such adetermination and hope that when everything actuallycame from push to shove, she felt sad. Today, she wasalone. Every day for great while, she had walkedalone.Now able to say goodbye to loving him because she hadremembered and forgotten, inclined to loving a newman. With a deep breath, she exhaled into the winds ofverve taking several steps propelling her spirit fromits silent abyss onto solid ground. Filled with wingsof hope, her heart soared and bravely began anotherjourney into love.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** Our Brightest Fires ***Written byGreta Morrison I noticed that in my sightseeing drives along thecountryside, a special penchant for Chimneys. Now,people will destroy a home, from plank to plank andleave the Chimney fully intact. So, being a woman ofinfinite curiosity and symbolism, I wanted to knowwhy. I did a great deal of research. First, theseChimneys rein all throughout the Valley. So, we'retalking about a very old legend here. In essence,there are two legends, different in idea, yetpurifying in effect. However, in asking a few other people why they lefttheir Chimneys when moving on, I received very strongvalidation that these people do believe in one, ifnot, both legends.Shall we begin? This first traditional tale startswithin the family, itself. According to my resources,the Chimney represents the very center of the family.Its strongest connection goes to the person mostrelied upon in that family. Many believed the Chimneynot only carried prosperity, protection and courage tothose in the family, but also served, as a reminder tothe unity needed to triumph over the difficult times.Others have told me that upon moving away from abarren home-site they have indeed left their Chimneysstanding amid the rubble and debris of what-used-to-betheir home. The explanation was simple. Chimneys leftupon the land, fully intact, provide a protectivecloak until the new family arrives. To which, the newfamily would perform their own protective blessingsand prayers. In conclusion, a new home, a new chimneyand a new family relinquishes all hold onto the past.Thus ending the first legend.The second story almost parallels to the first, in myopinion but I'll let you decide. Man, in his quest toform energy into substance, realized that Spirit iseverywhere and in all things. Therefore, Man, in hisown enthusiasm, built his own creations in honor ofthe cleansing, purifying, fire within his very life..And the Chimney took form representing man's fieryenergy.Its symbolism became known throughout all peoples, asthe very center of all that is sacred, reachingoutward, surrounding the home in comfort, warmth,protection and security. Thus, in the wisdom of theages, the chimney became respected for its upwardflue, being an extension of how we, as man, reachupward toward Great Spirit at all times. Either way,I'm sure we'll see Chimneys without houses everywherewe go for a long time. May prosperity be yourbrightest fires to chill the winter winds and maySpirit bless all of your houses along the way.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*** The Enchanted Lands ***Written byGreta MorrisonThere was a beautiful place high in the tip-top of themountain known as "The Enchanted Lands". The waterswere pure, sparkling and healing, smelling like freshair and were the color of true turquoise. Trees gleamso green, that if you look twice they speak the hue ofblue. And angelic divine beings watched over thisentire enchanted territory helping its populace to besafe, healthy and wonderful.Our young doe knew of this place. Not all about theprovince, mind you. But she knew that good berriescould be retrieved there as well as sparkling purewaters where only a taste could revive the soul to itspurest pleasure. So she traveled. And as she traveled,she contemplated on how to get past The Beast to theinside. She didn't know really what the word, Beastmeant nor did she think that she cared. She onlywanted a better life for herself. One could neverblame another for that.Her own forest had become quite crowded. The Squirrelshad formed a Union, determined not to let theTimbermen have their homes. While she offered themkindness and protection, the evil hunters would bearriving shortly giving everyone in the forest littleopportunity for continued growth and harmony. She hadventured that if for nothing more than a good berryand a cool drink of water, this new place was wellworth the effort and determination to get there.She traveled for days, stopping only in smallintervals in order to rest. Several others were inline, gracefully she took her place beside a longstemmed Crane named Krance and in front of an Iguananamed Frank. She watched as a Bear tried to best theBeast and was sent away. Then, came the Horse. Then, aRaccoon. On and on the list went. All of her fellowfriends were sent away by the Beast. Then, her turncame. She stepped forward with great compassion andlove, for that is her quality, unconditional love.This is why she didn't understand what the name"Beast" meant nor did she care.She faced the Beast with her customary stare,observing him as he observed her. The poor Beastalmost laughed out aloud. This little one wantedinside and hoped to best him in the matter.So he pretended to be concerned but he was the Beastafter all. He was rather intelligent, waiting for herto pull a trick or two out of her fur."What do you want?" He asked."I should like to please come inside." She answered.And she waited. A silence fell over the entire area.And while she waited, she spotted a wonderful coolstream from the inside running outward, downward themountain. Then, as her gaze peered to his left, shesaw a berry bush. So, it was then decided by her, thatthis was all well and good."I am in no hurry. While you decide, I think I shallstep first to your left, and grab a berry or two, thento your right, and have a cool drink of water. Thiswill be fine for me."And she did so.When night came, our young doe settled directly overfrom the Beast. She knew that as the protector andkeeper of the Enchanted Lands, that he must be wise, awarrior and well, a great deal more familiar with thisnew place than she.Days went by and this was how the Doe spent her timewatching the Beast. Making conversation with a chosenselect few whom understood her need for discussion onthe rise and fall of A Woman's place in a dictatorialsociety governed by Hunters and Timbermen.In wise moments, she spoke poetry to other fawns whomcame with their families for shelter within.The decision was made upon a full moon by the Beastthat she be allowed entrance into the Enchanted Lands.Although, to be quite honest, our young Doe felt thiswas a mutual agreement facilitated by her skills ofsilent negotiation. With a promise to visit every dayshe entered in. She did visit everyday. Learning and observing all thewonderful customs of being in a place accepted by heras well as accepting her. And as she did this, shevisited Our Beast, speaking with him, and communingwith others concerning the benefits of peace.Several years have passed. Our beautiful doe met asurprising handsome buck whom was beautiful in heart,body and soul. They began a family. Soon her fawnstook over her priority of teaching everyone about theuniverse's beauty. The Beast is still there. But he'schanged. He lets most everyone in. And the ones hedoesn't are truly those whom do not really wish to bein the Enchanted Lands. Lessons imparted from our young Doe include thedemonstration of transformation. Much later in herlife, she understood that she had traveled thedistance to the Enchanted Lands to express to everyonein the forest, how they held enchantment within theirown hearts. The barriers of the Enchanted Lands expandnow all the way down the Mountain. This was communityeffort. As always, the Squirrels banded together sothat no tree has ever been cut again without thepromise of another being planted there. There are nohunters. But every once in a while, you will see thebeauty of children whom come there to play, or to healtheir inner-hearts in unconditional love. Safely, allreturn back home to their rightful place as it shouldbe for all of Our Creator's creations. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Contact eMail: editor AOL Link <A HREF="editor"> Contact Click Here</A>~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Copyright 2003 Spirit One & New Age Info.net a division of Alternative Market Place Inc. All rights reserved~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

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