★ blog for lovers (murmurings of awakening) ★

8/16/25 To see without condition is to love
Many spend lifetimes pondering and circling what they consider to be challenges. But the hardest thing, the most terrifying thing, the thing all external challenges mirror, is to see oneself clearly. Sounds simple and it is. Paradoxically, this reality is a labryth of mirrors in which one must shed all contradiction they carry to who they really are in order to live according to their truth. Terror only lasts as long as one avoids looking and knowing for themselves, at which point there is a pivot into joy and transpersonal bliss.

8/16/25 The cat speaks soul
The cat wants to play now every night since I taught her how house cats play. Her coat has burs. She is strong. She finds me wherever I am on the estate at dusk to say "its time. Wear me out, woman." She isn't multi-lingual: she just speaks soul like we all do. Funny, I love her just the same.

8/15/25 Timelessness
Truth is timeless. True art doesn’t mold. I bathe in starlight asking the divinity within me to reveal and remove what untruth has caked itself onto my eyes. At times I tug on the fog as it rises from my body, nostalgic for story. Oh. But the captivity of a lie doesn’t evoke true melancholy. A singer who stops at longing sings not of love, but the lack of love they have for themselves. A lover who asks you to prove yourself may feel you deeply in their soul, but loves you from their sadly limited view of all things. But whoever stands before themselves and says “yes" is both tender and powerful. What is more beautiful than truth? What is more beautiful than a soul who loves? Not who claims to love, but who is love. Time may try to wrap itself around her only to grasp at the wind.

8/14/25 Megalithic driftwood
I want off the internet and into my
psyche with my bare hands
Wanna shove my face into its flowers
my toes into its sand
I want off the internet and into my
soul, butt naked in the wind
Wanna baptize myself in the mist
of its waterfalls I dance

I want out of your hate and into cedar
Out of your gaze and into silk
Burn all the ways I stayed afraid
I fall, I fly, I want off your stilts

Forget the date, place, names
Its all the same
Burn your pain and games for love
Be love
Be it now and see all things

8/12/25 Hózhóogo naasháa doo
As within, so without. Says the emerald tablet. So, what's for dinner? Your soul. On a platter. How... disgusting. As without, so within. You mean that broken-hearted, half-numbed-out carcuss that got me into this mess? Oh, my sweet, sweet heart. Dear beloved inner one who I never learned how to hold close and rock like a baby to dream. Yes, you carcuss. I love you just like that. I love you when your favorite person prefers their life without you in it. I love you when no one picks up the phone. I love you fat. I love you when you got the sticky kind of attention. Yes, then, too. This, too. You are a rose, darling berry. You are an entire abundant bramble of sea roses spanning white to Persian pink twisting upwards in the sea mist on a cliff jutting out into the ever-speaking blue tourmaline sea waves. I love you. I LOVE you. I love you.