When the walls come tumbling down
From self to worldly encounters, we plead
The world continues to spin with or without assistance — trapped by our existential belief or entrapment of collective truths — setting out to find another course. Stepping into the initiation of self-identifying realities — handed down by the ancient wisdom reserved for seekers pleading case before the cosmic hyperbole.
Bittersweet is the flesh binding trajectory — spirit calling to the winds of change — answers not but to echoing the pleas of families and communities’ pain-staking cry. We sit upon a sacred stump left by the Sequoia ripped from existence — a rotting corpse formidable to the meek unguided pilgrimage of a lonely path.
Holding sacred space — truth not fully translated to comprehension — Great Mystery calling upon those willing to walk away. Narrow is the way, open is the road — walking the solid yellow bordering this broken boulevard of dreams.
Devouring every book, attending every class — guru giving the nod to inner-knowing of what lay beyond the horizon. Stepping into the Canvas with a brush in hand — painting a new story-line, song-line, holding steady the bow in broken seas.
Self-inflicted wounds turn into self-healing songs shared with those willing to listen — afraid are they to step into the initiation of higher consciousness at first glance — accepting the path before them. Firmly standing ground, rocking and trembling with every step — into the unknown, they return, whence they came before spoken words.
On the threshold of being — contemplating muses, gathering thoughts — sharing in silence, peace deep within the soul — fragmented self, made whole. Observation greater than small — walls come tumbling down in grandiose proportions — bodies stacking up at the four corners of the globe.
Stand with me, dear ones holding space — sit with me, locking arms for this human race. Breathing in our troubled soul brothers and sisters — cleansing transmission of thought carried vibrational chorus line felt by very few.
~ Ani Po
No decoder ring, term penned by Marcus aka Gregory Maidman, but thoughts on emptiness this cloud-filled morn. When the world crumbles around us, and it probably has, we sit in quietude, holding space for those unable to.
Is it writer’s block? Sadness? Bleak outcomes for the week to come? Or is it an invitation to sit quietly, holding sacred space in knowing that all is present in love’s inviting tone. I will choose the latter and hope you will too.
These are my thoughts and maybe you relate or repel against these thoughts, that is ok. Thank you for sharing this moment in time.
Much gratitude for Diana C., jules, Spyder and Ravyne Hawke, along with this wonderful community KTHT.
I wrote the title with John Mellencamp coming to mind, hope you enjoy this song.
Universal timing, as this song comes on just after Mellencamp, I share with you now:
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.
