Masters of creation I bow before thee
I offer to you this heart of mine that beats blood to the cellular memory of lives past
This heart tender and vulnerable
Sensitive beyond my memory of its plan and purpose
This earth toughened her to survive the callous hand and tongue of other hearts cold with disillusionment
This physical site of life beats on despite challenges that seek to rip its cords from the connection to all else
This plane gone awry, birthing again and in its labor, we are churned and transformed into the truth of who we are, some see and know the plan so clearly it burns and forges new channels of love tearing through what is past to reveal what is true
For others it is a dull ache, signaling change-not conscious but ever present- urging sight and responsibility
For others resistance and the numbing cold of hate, fear, indifference
The ego’s maddening dance of stolen victory, an illusion of power
To those willing to place themselves in the fires of transformation, a new kingdom will rise up
For those who ride the tide of fear this time will be like a searing bloody death
To those gentle of spirit whose labor is in the sight of God they will as told inherit the kingdom of love
The sacred throne of grace
They will not suffer
They will not walk alone
For those true in faith there will be no death, but life eternal
There can and never has been a word, action, a thought that is not known by creations hand, it is through this hand we live
There will be no hiding, truth is a force of power that will forever coarse through our veins, beckoning hearts to come home
In this home there is rest and peace, liberation
The eternal love of Grace