He was lucky and my beauty grew so that he had no chance but to
pick me. I broke plans with another boy and we went to a party on
that boy’s street. I was a genius, apparently. Anywho, I don’t think
that my son’s father ever took me seriously, but I loved him dearly
for many years until I became pregnant and then had to leave. I
had my reasons, of course, which are not part of this story. I do
want to divulge that had I known who I was and what it meant
to have a child, I would have done things differently.
Luckily, I have learned never to blame myself for anything that
I did not know. In energy currency, blame is a complete scam.
It lures a person with the idea that they are good to feel bad for
doing things that are simply not complete or not aligned with
their heart. It delivers nothing life giving at all but takes its due.
Some people still defend blame and even guilt because they say that it allows for them to do better. This logic escapes me. Feeling
bad carries threads into the next thing, it extends bad into the
future. If we want to do better than we did last time, it does not
need to involve feelings of shame. These low vibrations lower the
foundation and limit the possibility.
I have seen miracles many times from paying attention to the
energy that surrounds us. I wish to describe the way that I see
them occurring, one by one.
My green eyes have been a lamppost in the darkness for this game
of life that is played in the dark. As they continue to gain more
light, becoming brighter is their only wish and is my honor to
hold.
It was not I that removed the brown from these borrowed almond
shaped sensory vehicles, but I who asked into the darkness. Had
I waited till the morning light when things are easier to see, the
traction from welcoming the unknown (currency again) would
not have carried me to green eyes. Things just don’t happen in
plain sight very often: unless many dark moments before all lined
up in a row for a particular happening of grand importance or
pleasure of many.
Spending my life looking for the ones I can see has helped me to
know about the ones I cannot see. Intimacy with the miracles that
I cannot see has had me gazing into the mirror of this beautiful
world for a long time and the reflection of the world I see contains
only what I can imagine for myself. Each next moment built on
the foundation of my love.
Green is a healing color, perhaps because of its presence in the
woods and gardens and hills. If by my watching and witnessing,
I can reveal color to dullness, who am I?
Tell Me
A Prayer Before Life
(1)
Tell me a story, please
Let the colors be in a base of platinum gray,
Motheringly moving
And from there I don’t know
Let me wonder
And trouble the same
Let me understand the breath of me
As it is
Love does not settle
For one petal
As it only recognizes the whole flower.
Perched, like an unfolding bird,
Waiting for the cold and the warm
to circle and catch under her feet
Tell Me
A Prayer Before Life
(2)
Patience was funny and did not show
when needed,
but when no longer needed
And that was perfectly placed
In the space between every moment
By the lingering grace
That has time for all things
To die of what they are not
And receive what is highest
Over and over
And bending and swaying for what is calling
Either the branch
Or the tall witness to flight
Who sheds not a tear:
Which is not overcome by joy
Evermore, Nevermore
And again, tell me again
The sweet spot. A pity that I can’t just reveal this with three
words like I don’t know. But, on Earth, beautiful Earth,
we must explain ourselves to the detriment of what we
mean. Here I go. It is more than worth it to feel less than perfect
when we are bringing one kind of world to another. Our divine
selves are perfect, and perfectly preserved while we are here.
Our human body needs to learn in a vulnerable state a new love
language. Love is spoken in words that are barely formed before
they come out of the mouth. Actions are violent before gentle.
Thought feels like constriction because it breathes in before it
breathes out; but slowly, it flows and grows until it is questioned.
A unanimous question from the wisdom of all souls. When a soul
seed (implanted in consciousness before time) reaches a certain
level of development, the previous language and understanding
does not meet the needs of the new concept arising. A question
forms causing the old ways to spiral like a snake, leaving only the
things that were true and good for all. In a way, this could be all
there is to the whole process of experience. Nevertheless, those
thoughts carry remnants that build up on a person sometimes.
The main distinction of this experience of buildup is that a
person forgets that this life is a game. Bravely and dare I say
stupidly, humans give up joy, kindness, trust, honesty, creativity,
encouragement and accountability for conditional happiness,
manipulation, conspiracy, confessions, fitting in, competing and
blaming others.