Surrendering my Heart
Great Mystery calls my name
And the day came — roller-coasters no longer interested me — the ups and downs, neck-snapping. Jarring heads, bouncing off the backrest, brain splattered on the inner walls of cranial supplantation. Frozen in time, fear-ridden mongrel consuming thoughts inner-standings skewed by the past, present, or particular future glimpse of what may or may not be.
Do it! We double-dog dare you! Step into the Light!
Ok, just for a moment.
Here I am! Show me what you got! Calling Great Mysteries bluff, as if disbelief in any other possibility other than pain and suffering pigeon-toed position.
Walls trembling, lights flickering, soul-felt terror entering an ever-expanding vortex, whistling and vibrating with a heartbeat of creations first flutter. Holding onto whatever remains of this physical plain — hair-pulling experience nonetheless, far too late for that.
Trash recycling out with the old, accepting new story-lines, told by a Great Story Teller. Intently listening, forever glistening, an inner voice speaking truths and dropping bombs like O.G. back in the day — Unmistakable spoken words and vibratory thoughts, tales-telling of infinite potentiality.
Here I am! Fusing all things intertwining deductive reasoning, accepting shadows of doubt, light altering schemes of things, sitting at points pivotal play-on-words, yin and yang grasping straws no longer. Acknowledging the greatest lies in history — truths told by our dead, surrendered hearts burn hot like great fires in the belly, unexpressed painful grasp in not letting go.
The vibrational fusing of souls, self-realizing cosmic beings entering trance-like state for the human populace, showing up when called “to be,” doubtlessness enters the building. Atop the mountain-ways, amidst the villagers’ fire-circling chats, or just observing a band-goer awkwardly Skanking to the Beat, Story Teller explains-“feel the vibration, be the vibration.”
It is time!-life’s surrendering moment to Great Mysteries unspoken words and canvas-like parables or picture-book irreproachable. With stories to tell, songs to sing, painted Canvas stepping into more play-on-words, letting it all go, surrendering all of “It.”
No longer I or we, self or they, identified not by physical or spiritual beings withholding, “We just are,” no longer labeled goat or sheep, good or evil, whole and holy are we — together we march.
Thank you J.D. Harms for this prompt, felt good to be back on the keys.
Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and more importantly the Dance with Inspiration. Much Love to Heart Revolution and all who arrive. Deep Peace.