Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

I have fallen south of my now - yesterday's freedom, a symphony of peaceful ambiguity-contentedly smooth, humming the melody, the chorus of destiny, a hym painted in water colored harmonyy--the muse of the Spirit ... being--and in being, fruition sweats in tangible ease-a walk, stroll--no a strut-smoothly whispering--tenaciously  vivacious --the soul on fire, blazing through the wild--leaving behind a path of stunned questions, hanging in redirection--stumbling-- even the masculine trees suddenly standing in attention--the wind too quelling its breath and all that is, staring in wonder, wide eyed and gaping- coveting forlorn, begotten with envy--the surreal--unexplainable--it's a  rare moment, spoken, a legend,


 but a witness---?? when a life possessed, passionless--becomes a ghost bound by the invisible-- frozen --a spell but only a handful have broken --is suddenly transformed, exersized- vapors are exhaled and the essence is loosed --all bounds broken--a body beyond breath and pulse-- just instantaneous combustion--a spirit awoken and set on fire- blazing she leads leads the way to glory-- intimidating yet welcoming--strange nurturing--the allure of security-the safety of truth --through the absolution of self --welcoming the self to be--but a soldier must unrobe and stand naked in the corridor of that world and this-with sheild and armor alive in the affirmation - conditioned, healed by faith and birthed into self, an awareness,  beyond recognition, but tangible in the sacrifice of  Grace, cradled and solidified in never's goodbye and given instead the promise of forever. Bow to the you, stripped at the alter --the worn and the comfortable--the torn, and the weathered. They were the shell your transportation to this moment's explosion--where....


The storm -is never truly over yet  it is both seen and felt and in commitment understood. The passage uncertain--but in surrender --comes a holding on and you are  gifted with the unconditional promise of love-- today, tomorrow and forever- again it is through this Blessed storm a newborn soldier flying towards the unknown- but for the first time knowing - truly knowing that the place in which he/she....i travel is, has always been and will always be, the place - the only place that I belong. So from this moment, to the world I kiss when I wake in the morrow, whether it be in this existence or the next, I belong - I'm no longer afraid; I belong - I am loved- I belong