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I. Being In Rhythm: The Guided Meditation: Fourth
by Layne Redmond

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Bloodiemere Dale

on The Call

Leave Crete, Come here, Come to the holy placeCome to the sacred grove. Your altars are smoking with incense.

Cold water sings through the fruited trees, Everything is shaded under the bower of roses And from the shimmering radiance of leaves An enchanted sleep drops down.

Here is a meadow of spring flowers Where horses graze and a soft wind gently breaths.

Come Aphrodite, pour your nectar into our golden cups In grace make the libation, bring your Melissaes to life.