“Bluest crimson sky be mine” she spoke in a whisper like glass.
Heavy heart, lost soul, blank slate, internal mind, failed attempts, growth into darkness… the end really is the beginning.
Saturn is here to ask what you’ve learned.
I wander here, foggy. I say “I thought I had learned much, but here is the same of what I thought was behind me”
Saturn nods, knowingly.
“But of course”
She is gentle but stern,
He cares too much about details nobody hears.
Water lilies reach for my soul, the sunshine glowing on their pink material, a small spark coming. But the spark is too far down, and I am left staring out contemplating the void.
It takes on an uglier form to be so deep down when you’re old.
I don’t have it in me to feed the wheel. I don’t believe in it. But without my platform, I am suspended, floating aimlessly.
But what is aim in this life? What is ambition?
Why have we been taught and programmed to glorify polarization, pre-determined to worship one and condemn the other?
So far out of balance, they cry. But their cries are temporary, for the process unfolds.
Still, the process is not certain for the individual. The individual is the whole and thus they must individually ensure their success onto the dimension of growth forwards into the ultimate center of oneness from which we have been moving until recently.
Silence.
I am full of raging silence.
I fear the day you fade away I sip tea and wrestle with interpreting the feeling in my chest How precisely to perceive the weight How I h...