Pilgrim’s Journey to Warrior Standing at Cliff’s Edge
Way finders spoken Truths
Sitting quietly in our daily space of whatever and what-maybes, seeing a finite reality created by the daily grind. So consumed by this and that, burying us in fear and anger — further dividing in judgmental thoughts — hatred for neighboring townships or persons.
Thinking our township stops abruptly at the boundary lines — while another continues — land extending only to the boundary waters of turtle island. We think atmosphere only extends to an exospheric boundary.
Expanding thought, knowledge aggrandizement of daily space.
Searching the boundary waters, outer atmospheric levels, or diving deep into Mother Earth’s core, finding vis at all levels. In searching we find our arrival.
We shall never know how far our boundaries reach whilst giving up the search — remaining static and buried in our self-dreamt doubting place.
The earth stopping not at water’s edge, a continuation of varying forms. Similarly, the atmosphere extending beyond the strato, meso, thermo and exospheric layers. ‘We are all one’ is not limited to a planetary body — extending beyond the nakedness of our eyes magnitude of an enhanced Hubble of cosmic ratios — going as far as the ‘mind’s eye’ can reach.
As a man thinketh, so is she. Breathe in a gift of life, breathe out mirrored returns. We are here to change the world, making global waves— beginning with Pilgrim’s journey to Warrior standing at cliff’s edge — earth shattering vows to the sacred.
Struggles cease.
Many paths dividing words forked in the road — shores moreover way finders spoken truths. Many speak of absolute, failing to see all as one-self-all-inclusive infinite reality of beings.
Alone — narrow is the Way — opening said paralleled universal thought transference from first person to the third person singular. Vulnerable are they — hearts unfolding inner guidance worn across the sleeves, all to witness — into me, I see.
Pilgrim’s sacred journey, igniting final fire eighth, a warrior’s conscripted wandering — carrying elder’s verbal lore intertwining flame. Robert Frost’s road not taken, balancing two worlds — four directions — cardinal rules implanted upon flesh and blood speaking as One.
Forward thus my day foretold — voices battling by thousands — inwardly squelching self-mastered concluding ideations notwithstanding past vice and future’s holding. Muse’s Uprising prophetically told, encapsulating macro with microcosmic certainties — My Truth Stands Naked and Alone — true vires in empty palms wrapping eternally.
~Ani Po
Thank you Diana C. for this weeks prompt and to the whole KTHT family for sharing in this sacred Dance with daily inspiration.
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