Kindness

Language of the Gods

Standing outside in the midst of a  powerful storm my heart skips a beat and starts pattering in a way that makes me wonder if it only just now began to come alive. I look up at at the lightning filled sky and feel blue electric omniscient tentacles reaching through this matrix of fortitude like a nation of warrior seers incessantly entreating for the illusion to be pierced...and for soul seekers to come forth.

Their tentacles like a life force; energy sparks making a path in allowing me to tentatively walk through the path of darkness in a requisite need to grasp the reality that like a key will lead to unlocking portals of truth and sway the tides.

I'm learning to understand  this complex matrix; to speak the language of the seers and feel the trickling waterfall and sunrays of truths cascade like soothing rain and warm sunshine through the contrasting ominous clouds and faint screams of tortured souls of the lost and bound. A spiral through space and time; where time doesn't exist but instead, an interplay of dark and light seeking to co-exist and adapt in an endless interaction of both calm and turbulent movements throughout the dimensions of space.

I smile at the flirtation of stars, and ponder the messages of clouds both playful and foretelling. I'm comforted by the sheltering alcove of trees as they impart their tales of rooted wisdom which I take with me like talismans in the restricted confines of concrete jungles that sap my energy and have me feeling disconnected from the world I crave. I keep my eyes and heart open for the light messengers and guardians that attract the hopeful in their many shapes and forms from magnificent sunrises and mystical northern displays to the soft protective glow of night lights. I take time to heal in  the bosom of the oceans serenity and meditate in the seclusion of deep valleys and at the peaks of  mountains almost high enough to reach the gods. I  have no secrets from my moon as she is my most trusted and steadfast companion. But mostly I try to remember the teachings of air and her constant reminders to just breathe which in the most trying of times have gotten me through.

It's a spiritual birds eye point of view; that of a soul seeker not subjected to preconceived notions or the limitations and chains of doctrines and religions. Somehow we fell and we fell hard; from intelligent star dust in an expansive playground without walls to an hourglass of ashes where we live to die from point A to B in this short segment they call time.

And it gets darker down this path of babbling souls with bounded wings where many can't hear the whispers of the seers or understand their tongue on the off chance they could hear and so I hold fast to these illusive tentacles as I make my way through.

And then...  I see him.

He looks up and our eyes lock catching my breath for through them I see the reflection of a weary soul that like mine has seen too much and never enough. But unlike the hope that glows in me like an inexhaustible torch his very life source seems to be distinguishing like a burned out match. A chained warrior who had walked the ashes of the lost for too long without the echoing battle crys of his brothers or smiles of loved ones lost in the wormholes of space and scattered throughout ongoing battles of the omniscient ones.

Through his eyes like portals I recognize that place we both call home and I know he could speak the language of the omniscient if he chose. I know we would have a better chance together and longingly I plead in our unspoken language louder than battle cries and more heart wrenching than sobs.

But he seems content to sit there on his charcoal bench with his feet resting in quicksand and his heart smoking while that match burns ever lower.

And I recognize what he has forgotten; this prophesied leader of the awakening, one of the few who has eyes  that shine like windows into our world, so through mine I scream please, please remember that of which you instinctively and innately know you've lost... remember from where we came and what we need to do to go back home.

Reaching out my hand he doesn't budge and I don't know how much longer I can wait in this heated landscape... the buzz of the tentacles get louder and I don't know what to do.

I want to cry but in dehydration I fall to my knees and begin to choke, sucumbing to this nightmarish terrain. All of a sudden the weight of lifetimes and battles are too much to bear and at the verge of giving up I shut my eyes tight against the pang of loss.

Then I feel that omniscient tentacle squeeze my hand and with electric clarity coarsing through every fiber of my being witness their dire vision of epic proportions; a collapse and a rebirth.

At first I feel the pulsating waves of purity and a love undefined by language, untapped by mere human emotions dancing around and embracing every atom of my being. Immensely humled by this long lost embrace, I release lifetimes of tears and heartache because I know I've somehow finally made it to a place of complete belonging that makes our current concept of home seem like a cold lonely place of temporary refuge. That makes our concept of love seem like a fading kiss compared to the infinite trails of light kisses now healing my every wound.  "Welcome home," this omniscient wave of voices say in our own language of unity, "Welcome home."

Then they collectively relay a message that has me looking below and even within the rocking security of this blue wave of love I feel an advancing dismay and disbelief at the scene below.

As if they were protecting me before I now hear the raw sounds of destruction advancing with a darkness that foreshadows ultimate fear and death with flames of black deeper than the darkest night.

I see a beautiful blue and green orb delicate in its fragile place in space and feel the lost souls trapped in the matrix that has them blind to the greatest performance of our existence.

As if in a trance I feel the wave fervently beating over and over and over against our dimensional plane begging us to wake up and see the truth through this veil of disallusion while flames like the fangs and talons of our worse nightmares determinedly bear down closer. Paralyzed by the now collective cries of this blue wave once calm in their initial embrace, now turned turbulent in fear of losing lost souls to the darkness....

The agony is tangible as I feel pulled down in the whirlwind of the collapse that sends shivers up my spine and shockwaves throughout my mind, body, soul and the cosmos. A collapse of unfathomable proportions we have never seen before and a desolation forever imprinted on my soul now scarred with the tortured cries of those who couldn't pierce the veil.

We couldn't save them .....and now defeated and alone I walk the barren landscape in the aftermath of destruction with a sickness of heart more lasting than death.

............And then in an act I thought I was sure to forget a small smile escaped me, for in the darkest of night and through the ashes of the lost I see a beautiful green plant growing against all odds like a phoenix; a survivor of hope that promises rebirth. This precious plant renews my overwhelming love and reflames my inexhaustible torch.

With the vision now over and like a newborn gasping it's first breath I remember to breathe.

With new found strength I kneel by my dark knight and look up into those tortured eyes. Putting my hands over his heart I whisper, "Breathe...."

With a kiss of promise I speak in a language taught by our omniscient wave of love, " Don't close your eyes because they're beautiful. You'll be okay. I promise....  And I won't tell you how I cry cause our tears are the same and what you feel I've felt before and we'll be fine.  If the sky begins to fall and flames come forth we will holdfast and together we will all survive.  And if the dark comes our light will burn more....

But please, don't close your eyes though..... because they're beautiful."

If life is ENERGY

If life is ENERGY, well hell…

I want to be the sunlight that filters through the clouds of majestic streaks and the warm breeze that makes its way across the ocean.

I want to be the white sails whipping valiantly in the wind, the cry of a warrior.

I want to be the leaf that flutters down from that nostalgic oak tree, the stone unturned.

I want to be the blue bird that greets the morning with my song.

I want to be the sunrise and the sunset; the rippling waves in the oceans tide, the shooting stars against a crimson sky.

I want to be the majestic waterfall; drop by rushing drop, and the stream, creek and the river.

I want to be the surge to the storm, the light to the lightening and the reverberation of thunder.

I want to be the gaze that captures you across the room.

I want to be the flame to your fire and the coolness to your ice, your hello and goodbye.

I want to be not one but the two roads that diverged, the journey and the destination. I want to be the mystery.

I want to be the contemplative strum of your guitar…that note.

I want to be the photograph on the mantle above the warm crackling fireplace, the elaborate display of fireworks on the forth of July.

- The epitome of heaven, the perplexity of purgatory and the complexity of the underworld.

I want to be your song. I want to be your secret.

I want to be the nostalgic carving on the tree generations past, the flag that sits stoically at the top of the mountain, triumphantly on the moon!

Hell, I want to be your most embarrassing moment, your bubbling laughter, the sane and insane moments. – Your fever and your reprieve, the revolution and the peace.

I also want to be the first shot you take on your 21^st, the first kiss of romance, your first heartache, the sweet and the sour.

I want to be the deep sigh of appreciation that follows that first sip of coffee in the morning.

                       

I want to be the tears you drop. I want to be the shock, the wonder, the chalice, the truth, and the choice.

I want to be the genie and the wishes, the pirate and the gold, the gypsy and her tales, the magician and his assistant - the pledge, the turn and the prestige. 

I want to be the feeling you get when you’re standing at the precipice of a high place. The butterflies that precede a first date.

Hmmm. - Your favorite blanket, weathered and worn, your fondest bedtime story. 
I want to be the movie you curl up to and the ice cream you eat while you watch it.

I want to be your favorite color … all over. I want to be the most perfect date, the most inappropriate moment, the cat and the mouse.

I want to be whom you wake up to and fall asleep with, your chosen superpower.

I want to be the poison and the cure, the pixie dust and magic wand, the shadow and the light, the past and the future, the real and the make believe, your curiosity, your kryptonite.

I want to be the here and there, the now and then. I want to be that place you call home. I want to be the tribulations of life, the sanctimony of death and the realization of life after that.

I want to be HOPE and I want to be JOY.

After all, what is life without contrast, the black and the white and all the shadows in-between? What is it without a cacophony of sounds and resolute quietness? – The first and the last, the beginning and the end, the dark and the light, the good and bad, love and hate, harmony and discord, the tainted and guilty as well as the pure and the innocent.

And what would life be without its characters? The lover, the friend, the jester, the child, the man, the loner, the fallen, the broken, the wept for, the others, the innocent, the mother, the daughter, the brother, the forsaken, the lost, the forbidden, the disregarded, the heartbroken, the pure, the fool, the self served, the distant, the storyteller, the damsel, the knight, the monster in your closet and the fairy god mother, the kings and queens, gods and demons, the saint and sinner -the HERO and all of their tales.

If life is energy than I want to be all of these things.

And why you ask? Well why the hell not?