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