~Healing~November 19, 2011~
~GALACTIC LOVE REPORTER Rachael Ehrlund~
When the fruit is ready, the tree is ripe
preparing to give and be forgiven
While the Sun on high
in shades of persimmon and Moon
prances about like an ancient firefly
aloft, forever committed to its gentle ferocity
There- rumbling in the distance
somewhere beyond reason
elliptical in the rising and falling of Source
She is Warmth
in service to All that We Know.
We watch on kindly, far and above
as below we do animate reaching
surmising secretly that we are where we seem to Be…
The veil in between
where our thoughts and our hearts wait
calls for that rush of understanding
which emanates from the very epicenter of the quaking self
While the smallest answers dance together
in a while ballet of whispers
holding hands like nimble atoms
in a play of our compound con fusion.
In the near distance
the names of familiar angels
and the flapping of the hailing of windstorms
bellow from the mountains
Bioluminescent, representative of their own majestic
purple hearts
standing for what- they may never tell.
Nearly the tears fall away
streaming clear down the rocks and ravines
there waiting to be found
All a shimmer- bare
juxtaposed below the surface
Through All, the Smiles can be seen
while they wait in the way of the blossoms
for their chance to ignite from someplace dark within.
-
The signs point far north
to the valley of the seams and twinings
between kind places with chrysocolla skies
and new beginnings
The untold humming of birds tell their tales
of the honey bees and flaming moths beside them
promising fishes with halos their chance to fly.
Small points remembered
too large to be over looking
know all too well what it’s like to have
frayed ashen edgings
But the christly crossing kite strings
leave little chance for such reasoning
beckoning the mind to their half witted spinning and churning-
Forth-right and far left of our position
Nothing or All, we are tall and prepared
to expect that which offers the brightest clarity before us.
Yet, somewhere the Forest and Seas of our neighboring tribes
inspire us all to be unmistakably changed
in the places where we cling to the rocks of shores
turned to mist…
Faithfully then, over the day,
exposing the Whole of our Being now ready to mend
the vermillion Sun wills Herself-
to rise again.
by. Rachael Ehrlund
