On reflecting childhood memories, mom shooing us out to play notwithstanding the sun’s kiss of death on my shoulders, popped, oozing, and the threat remains.
The childhood traditional, to be seen and not heard hard-pressed vacancy being filled, adventure, mischievous undertones extreme sports, base jumping, totaling broken bones.
Ground long-serving friend, healing wounds inflicted self and collective rejuvenating songs, Mothers warm embrace opera not, ravishing galactic symphony under the Milky Way tonight, Church singing familiar tune nine in nails the following suit, rebellious or experimental God only knows days end, contemplative melody replaying Andy Griffith.
Looking, descending, lower realms calling name oculus entryway, swimming deeper within murky waters opening familiar gardens, meadows, pastures filling guides keepers of Akashic record, power animals standing by innermost reflection, outwardly gaze upon the stars northern lights if one is lucky, lifetimes pass never spoken giving thanks path less taken, present be, future’s pathway.
Up is where the journey begins, self-reflecting therein pause for a moment, there you are, On the Ground Looking Up.
Thank you for taking the time to read. Hope you enjoyed it. This was my first attempt at an acrostic poem, prompted by a fellow writer on Medium.
Taking it all in, painful misery, joyful symphony, and absorption liking sponge mopping up the floor, vacuum-packed punch, or gentle hugs dependent flow. Curse or divine gift, dependent contextual occasions, serpents bite, panthers pounce, heavenly embrace, angelic whispers, vacuum-packed punch, or gentle hugs dependent flow.
Parents fighting, sharing words among themselves, turning to our young child with love-filled words. Likened mask, that of sheepskin hiding big bad wolf, expressing love to the young. Pot-bellied pig outcome, little Joey absorbing hidden vibrations, unbeknownst to root cause. Parental scolded childlike suffering, medical staff unaware, pain and suffering lifelong squalor.
Unaware of transmuting gifts, people flock, magnet pulling iron ore from crevices. Little understanding labeled energies; Tesla’s neglecting lesson intelligence much later. When the student is ready teacher appears, physical or non-speaking transporting horse, sacred drum loud and clear.
Thunderous call, winds of change lifting en Espiritu, surrendering lifelong traumas ancestral tortured souls. Intrinsic being at conception, forgotten birthright, learning truths presented at the altar, acceptance of what was and shall be, receiving gifts, downloading and translating vibratory songs.
Given new sight into the twilight as if high noon, even the smallest of creatures witnessed on the forest floor, wise old owl calling playful owl from the hiding. Goo Koo Koo! Two owls sitting between wisdom’ playful song, altering tune, changing field of perception, new galaxy giving birth, no longer three dimensional, stars are born.
Misko mishwaabek Manistee
Misko mishwaabek Goo Koo Koo
Wherever you are, call upon the two
Hearts transmuting thought
Head mind letting go.
Song of our ancestors’
song of our own healing song
quietly being, time immobile
Heart transmuting thought
Head mind letting go.
A man called crazy, pipe in hand, sitting with the ancients around sacred fire. Elder speaks, cyclone spinning, council breaking time and space, transporting thoughts misery, blessing all past, present, future generations. Others attempt to sit among the ancients but vibrational match holds not the key.
Thrown from the horse, out of the cyclone they came, unmatched vibration to those at the council. Sharing memories with the others, reminiscent memory, recalling nothingness at hand, as it was then remaining same today.
The above is a shortened version of one person’s journey through this thing called life. As a child subject to pain and misery in a household that was always fighting, this young boy absorbed all of the energy, transmuting negativity into positivity. Being young, untrained, the little one could not dispel(l) the energy fast enough, swelling, and distending as if having terrible gas. The dozen times he was taken in for a medical examination, this young child was often diagnosed with having flatulence, eructation, or bloating with never getting any reasoning as to why.
Later in life, he would find he has been transmuting energies all his life. Learning methods and using tools to release any absorbed negativity. Listening to nature’s song, creation speaks, as a young man began singing a new song into the night, transforming by day.
Then one day having his eyes burnt out during a sweat lodge, an owl came to him, actually two, giving him new sight, gifting ability of light within the darkness. Literally, before retiring for the evening, it was 2 a.m. and our young friend could see as if it were daytime. Stories of two owls began to form, telling tales of wise and playful beings of the past traveling beyond realities.
Whether his life is made up, real, or merely an illusion of sorts, he is no different than everyone else. Their reality is their truth, our friend’s truth no different. One giving strength in darkened times, bearer of light, the other remaining in darkness, misery and lost from nature’s way.
Thank you for taking the time…
As soon as we discover the natural flow of vibrational’ song, we can learn to sing harmoniously along, changing the chorus, refrain, even writing our own ballads. In time, dissolving time itself, we Just Become.
During this morning’s coffee, while a balmy 26 degrees Fahrenheit, a great stillness was in the air. It has been sometime since I felt this stillness in the collective, so I thought I would translate it for you. Singing through, vibrational song, entering hearts true home…we become.
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