Drawn to the darkest aspects of collective revelations — no more driven by fear or painful misery — accepting a lighter approach to daily living. Once bitten — serpents tempestuous song — decades of sorrow, life-ending pleas.
Familiar is the fleeting thought — protecting the innocence of inner knowing — calling of another voice from high on the Mount of Olives. Negotiating contractual rights — existing in plain sight — hidden from those drinking the collective drink.
Bittersweet — a pungent turning of spoiling flesh — a serpent shedding its skin — bathing in cleansing waters. Floating amidst the ancient ones — emitting crystalline wafting wafers — left for consumption of those willing to plunge deeper.
Into the cosmos — self-realizing truths — inner to outer rings of furthest galaxies, it is so. As above, so below — as it was spoken before — as real today as before.
Acknowledging the flesh-eating, self-defeating thought — accepting the easement into the greatest ease. As one wing leads to the left, the other right — remains indifferent to the whole aviary flight.
We are the whole bird — darkness shadowing light. No longer attentive to the despairing clouds — remaining focused on the giver of light.
~ Ani Po
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. Deep Peace.
Early on in Oljita’s coming out — obsessed with the collective grinding of fingers bones — noticing very little flesh left on his phalangeal pointers. Something had to give — before the levy breaks — washing everything away, drowning in personal misery and fear-ridden monkey-mind thought.
Were the others pretending — on prescribed or social medications? The accuser — Oljita making the shift — stepping into an arena foreign to him.
They are so happy! How can they possibly be so happy?
Mateo greets Oljita, “what troubles you, Oljita?”
How can they be so happy?
It is merely a feeling that grows from within. Feed this happiness, and it continues to sprout new branches — reaching for the skies with unlimited knowing — we are all here at once. Chaotic spirits play tricks on our inner psyche — pushing the peaceful self-illustrated being out to pasture.
Studying the masses — tormentors and blissful entities all around — noting the movements are either constructive or destructive — Oljita must choose which dance to partake in.
Invitation sent out — all are welcome — beings of inner turmoil and energetic shape-shifting creators presenting even more. They came in drones — an overwhelming response — to the invitation for a peaceful resolution.
Hearing what they had to say — Oljita decided to follow in the Creator’s footsteps — warrior-like mentality — never really pausing to hear what others think. Maybe just a little — with discernment of footings beat to what comes next.
Once lost — Oljita bought into the building of empirical stature and leaving legacies in his wake — falling flat on his face a thousand times, only to get up and go at it again. Missing the signs — written in the stars, book titles dropping into his lap, and even words piercing his heart — choosing to mimic ‘the others.’
Poverty thinking — is what he heard — thundering voices demanding his attention — until the noise was too great — no longer able to drown it out by addictions numbing tale. Poverty thinking — magnetic pulling of others’ poverty thinking until the levy broke — sink or swim to the other shores is what Oljita was left to sort.
Swim dammit! Telling himself with a similar deafening voice — as the ones calling to him before. Who’s voice is this? Matters not, but whether you listen to this inner voice.
Oljita steps into a valley of death — taking anywhere from a month to years of having to cross the baron desert — not knowing what awaits on the other side. Having to leave everything behind — with only a small canister of water and whatever morsels he found in the valley — spending years studying the rotten corpses left here to die.
Emerging on the other side — there truly is a land of milk and honey — angelic horns playing for yet, another arrival of warrior’s tune. Oljita climbs from the pit of despair — stepping into the ease of what may be or unknowing of day’s bringing forth.
Spirit-lifting physical and mental exhaustion — mana filling every cell — Oljita morphs for the first time. Transferring into a hawk — flying to greater heights — seeing for the first time with greater perspective.
From hawk to bear, a panther to the serpent — aware of thoughts in collective harmony and disharmony alike — Oljita sits on the hillside with his new friend Smokey Joe. Sharing a prayer — releasing all thoughts — poverty and abundant wishes passing like the westerly winds — he transforms into the prayer itself. Like a puff of smoke passing with the Creator’s breath — present are they, who speak without saying a word.
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. Deep Peace.
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