The Healing

The cloud enveloped me
A milky white encasement
Drawing out the darkness
In swirls the shadows withdrew
Dissipating into the outer body
My essence embraced those sorrows
The immeasurable fertility of pain
Supercharged my Being
As the body succumbed to the healing
A wave of white energy covered All

The Power of Your Words

Your words hold All your Power
And yet you don’t trust them
You keep your spells harnessed
And restrained thinking they can harm you
When in reality they are your freedom
They cause the road before you to bend
And they move mountains from your path
But you have been taught that the harshness
With which you sometimes speak is an evil
And that unkindness is a sin
But those with the softest sugary ways
Are often times the most maleficent
They subdue you with properties they do not posses
And convince you to shed your armor
While they hide themselves from your view
But look closely and you will see behind their veil
Try and pick the fruit and you will find the tree is bare
The only true prayer is this ~ show them Who they Are
All else is a self serving request for personal salvation
The One who know this needs no saving
The One who sees God within, sees God in All
And the words of that One never return void

Isaiah 55:11
so shall My word be that goeth forth out of My mouth: It shall not return unto Me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.

Letting go

When the wheel of karma changes direction
The great equalization will occur
Time will once again bend in my favor
And all my heavy loathings will be released

~~ Letting go is an illusion held together by the thread of denial.
Only the cosmic balance of karma has the power to set you free.

Premonition

I can feel the way to go
As though a force or flow
Nudging me with bits of inspiration
These quickening flashes of imagination
They have sometimes stopped me in a mire
When at a loss I was with no direction or desire
Long and fast I stood stone still
Unmoved and dead inside until
With a direct and pressing motivation
I leapt back to life with new found determination
I do not know what causes these inner commotions
That push and pull and stop and still my devotions
It would be as though I had no will or power of my own
But instead some other pulse through me be shown
Though sometimes I sit callously in haze and do ponder
What deep well of possibilities in life might we squander
For I can see the ways all in a flurry that cause men’s woes
And all the maddening directions unknowingly he goes
If only he could sense that silent space within
That magical place of knowing lies therein
Where all illusions be shown to those who’ll see
Then perhaps they’d be awakened and aware like Me.

 

I knew that it was Good

There came a day in my life when I realized that not all that I had seen was as it appeared. My vision of life was like broad strokes of paint on canvas – colors mixing together and creating shapes that held no purpose at all. Yet, they yielded beauty. It was a splendid mix of radiance and within those hues were entire spans of life, all being lived out harmoniously and with an order that I had not previously been cognizant of. Until suddenly, I was – I could see it All – every connection. It was like I was everything. I was every leaf and every tear and every cloud all at once. I could feel the heartbeat of every creature and every vertebra that moved and every wind that blew through leaves like the strumming of strings on some secret mystical instrument. And all I wanted, was to thank God. I wanted to yell it from the highest peak that I could climb, and then I realized – I Am the highest peak – I Am that I Am. And I heard God laugh in that moment. It was as if every laugh that I had ever heard and every voice I had ever listened to laughed in that laugh because All was God. And yet I was still Me – one small piece of God, finally realizing that I Am. And then We both laughed – the entire world laughed. And I picked up everything because it was mine – you see, being and having are the same thing, and so I walked through the doorway to All, and I became what I came here to become – this time around. And I wrote with a new passion and I filled pages and pages and volumes and volumes and my fingers were like lightning on the keys and it mattered not that no one ever read them. Because I was everyone, and I read every word that blazed upon the page. And it was enough that I alone knew that it was good.

The Rising

Each mote must float within its space
And every like to each its own must face
And You so being created as such
If longing and desiring is much
Must know and understand in detail
To stay the same yet want will surely fail
There must always be a growing and a reaching
For the risings only garnered by the breaching
Yet the soul that tethers itself to any idol
Will find itself a prisoner of that wile
For the expanding path will always lead away
From those whose choice in stagnate waters stay
But You who’ve learned to think in all directions
Will find the power that masters ALL reflections

Birth

All truth lays hidden in your mind
Be it bad or be it good – it is there
Conceiving itself as a seedling, forming
Until birth into the very existence of your life
And you perceiving it – judge it –
The very thing that you made
Without realizing that it was you
Who formed and created it
And I have noticed that most
Take credit for all they deem as good
But instead place blame for all they deem as bad
And in doing so – give all their power away

Dying Embers

I allowed myself to be changed by other people’s ideas of appropriateness, and I burned beneath their heavy opinions.

They did not glow brighter for my complicity.

Dying embers do nothing to fan the flames of greatness within anyone.

~ This Mere Dust

I am but a breath, a mere word spoken,
And soon forgotten.
Like the dust that blows easily –
In a soft wind it is scattered.
Who can know such a One?
Those whose lovely deceitful smiles hide
The false flattery of their mouths?
They say what they do not mean and
Their actions are far off from their words.
He has blinded their eyes and hardened and
Benumbed their callous hearts.
But who are they who have set me in derision?
Does the strength of their hand profit me?
These mere men – whose ripe age and vigor has perished.
Like a rabble brood: they jostle me and push away my feet
Casting up against me their ways of destruction.
Oh, How they break up and clutter my path!
Yet they have no helper – No power to trample this dust –
Who is He who has raised me from the dead?
Who has freed me from my burial wrappings?
There is no Rock like my God.
For He is the Lord of knowledge
And by Him actions are weighed.
How many times have I been filled with words;
Yet the Spirit within me constrains me?
You have saved me from the snare of the wicked.
You have made my ways a highway of pleasantness,
And all my paths a way of peace.
I have watched the ways of the wicked, like a deep
Darkness, they do not know over what they stumble.
They walk by the light of their self-made fires
And of the sparks that they have kindled for themselves.
Who is my adversary? Let him come near to me.
I will seek out those who contend with me,
But I shall not find them; they shall be as nothing.
Where is the talebearer and he who sows strife?
The whispers of such separates even close friends!
And where is the evildoer who gives heed to wicked lips;
And the liar who listens to mischievous tongue?
They fled the rebuke of the Lord like chaff before the wind.
Who is he who will condemn me? All these sinners,
And who among you will cast the first stone?
I have searched and poured over the scriptures diligently,
Yet the beauty of the words do not contain Life,
It is the giver of Life that produces the beauty of the words!
All these things taken together, shaken up, measured out
Have not equaled to the fullness of the Lord!
A man can receive nothing except as it is granted
To him from heaven – there is no other source.
But boundless is the gift God makes of His Spirit!
Thus, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven
Over one wicked person who repents than over Ninety-
Nine righteous persons who have no need of repentance.
Well let the trumpets blast in heaven!
For out of His fullness I have received one grace after
Another and spiritual blessing upon spiritual blessing
And even favor upon favor and gift heaped upon gift!

ALL FOR ONE WICKED SINNER – THIS MERE DUST!