Your heart is a muscle

Breaking
Beating
Hoping

Healing
Feeling
Racing

Yearning
Loving
Expanding

Your heart is a muscle, my Love
I can only promise to make it stronger ;)

Lazarus

When something tangible and true dies...when the ship that you thought was coming in,  crashes and sinks in the port...

...when something so concrete, so vested, so vital dies, can you trust that there truly is such a thing as resurrection ?

Nature shows me life is truly undefeatable.
Fire makes forests.  Roots cut through rock.  Water will make its way through stone. And earth will cover stone with lichen and so on...

Life dies not die. Things are transformed.  Resurected renewed. 

In my faith, there are teachings and wisdom written on my heart.

I think about things like wineskins.

You can't pour new wine into old wineskins.
Can you pour out your soul only to be embodied by something that cannot contain you?

How do we create the new wineskin?
I want to know, for i am certain when we recreate our new vessel,  in fills new wine. 

Can I hold the notion that  the end of something only reconstitutes and transforms. Given the will.

I would love to walk with Lazarus. Yes, the man Jesus wept over, and resurrected after 4 days in a tomb. New wineskin? New wine?

No doubt he was a changed man. A new vessel.  The truly vital things do not die.  Nothing is impossible. 

I'm looking forward to the Lazarus effect.

Love after casualty

I won't tell you I love you so many times that the words end up dying in my mouth.

I won't allow repetition to become irrelevant.

This is an adventure without mishap. A hunger without obsession. A raison d'etre without need.  A desire without want.

It Is.  I Am. You Are. We Be.

I promise you certainty.
The way the night is always roused by the morning sun.  You found my heart in this time between magic and manifestation.

I found you in the dance of the divine.
Like the Dervish whirling his way to Love. Like the earth spinning in the dance of life. When we sit on the earth and watch the stars we  are called to the same constellation.

I promise to see you the way the world will not.  I promise you will never be a casualty of my expectations. I promised this, only after i learned from the war before...

In the peace of the morning, I will always want your Sunday kind of love.  You give me this and all of the above.

Creating the Wormhole

I often  find myself reaching out across the universe searching for none other than... myself.

It's like looking in a mirror to study my reflection. Instead I think I am trying to see the expansive and whole... Higher self

The one who is existing in the infinite.  The person on the other side of my current realty.  Perhaps the one who is the universal extension of ... earthbound me. 

So I stand in the void of my creative mind and stare inward, moving into the depths to find myself. 

Creating the wormhole is a necessary course of finding wisdom and solace. Because I know this part of me is the closest to ...God. 

Just a little faith goes along way

Fear doesn't move God...Faith does

Artemis needs her hound

Oh how I miss hikes in the woods...you,  making all the other beasts fall silent.  Will any four legged ever compare to your stature ? Will I find loyal love again?

I am searching for a new familiar...
Artemis needs her hound.

the story part 5 of ?

...if your are new to the story dear reader, please go back and read the story...

part 5 :

...yes life has loosened the Goddess

broken pieces that lined the beach
become treasures in sand castles

she stopped waiting for the Captain
and was awarded her companion  

dawn breaks, the sky - blue bird
time has opened a wormhole

from dark and stormy memories
to a modern joie de vivre

the light house; towering above
is a new nest - a beacon to paradise reclaimed

sun filters through polarized lenses
and joy is evident on sun kissed faces

the surf rouses a playful spirit
the waves brough them togeher

and in the ebb and flow 
is found a new rythmn

betrayal becomes an ancient story
and hurt becomes a myth

in a dusty novel not fit for a bookcase
but bound for a starry night fire...

love was found in letting go
healing came from the inside out

It was when the Goddess learned to ride the waves
that Love surfed in on a board through the wake 

...and the story is still being written...