I wrote this a while back. Yet, it seems that the post gets a good number of visitors, to my surprise. So I thought I’d post it again, especially now.
At the time when I wrote, I didn’t realize how powerful these words are, that they are incantations of divine magic, sourced in my connection with God. I wrote it for my twin, who does not speak with me. And this is for the best, as what comes through his mouth is mostly the words that do not belong to anything a child should listen to.
My twin and I are in separation, possibly for the remainder of this lifetime. He has chosen, as he has chosen in the past, dark arts, lust and power, drugs, and alcohol, instead of God. The last I saw of him was 4 years ago, when he turned his back me and muttered
“I don’t have time for this.”
What they don’t have time for, is what we, as light workers, have all the time in the world to hold. Dust falls away back into the earth eventually, as such things are no longer needed or desired. Yes, those who believe they are dust, don’t have time for much. Their time is limited. The sun however, the great sun, as symbol of the power of Life, the Source of all things, never stops pouring its love through the world and through the mouths of the creators that we are for all eternity, One Love.
Blessings XO
wisdom is silent
not to be spoken to or by anyone else,
it comes to you,
and works through you,
you won’t find profit in it,
no one will be impressed
or love you more for it,
nor will you make more money,
nor appear more beautiful,
nor more wise.
save your words for wisdom,
they are hers alone to hear
and to sing,
that is the meaning
of the sacred,
for never-ending chatter is desperation,
every utterance, an advertisement,
that they’re afraid to hear themselves,
the loud chatter hailing from the lips
drowns the truth in icy wasteland
of the incessant echoes of centuries
rummaging through their bones
shiny, creaking as they attempt to walk
and babble the world of mind-chatter,
crumbling as vowels groan and fall,
until they die in shivers
alone
words are always their weapons,
nooses by which to catch fish,
children with sweet candy,
or…
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Soul in the machine 