~ from cats, dogs and nature to the flowering of body, mind and spirit ~

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Tiny Beings Who Dwell Within

I cradle within new life and light, and the will to bring gifts of realization into the world. My soul glows and warms the seeds of all creativity and inspiration. All the stories are sheltered here, they perform their own metamorphoses, as they grow into thought forms and then into words on a page.

See all the tiny beings and their dreams? They laugh and love and experience challenges, waiting to be born. These tiny beings work hard to capture my attention, to encourage me to see life in a new way; they explode firecrackers to atomic bombs, and share love as vast as the great plains once roamed by millions of magnificent beasts. They help me and guide me, these tiny beings, sharing their thoughts and ideas, and showing me that all ways of being are good and all paths lead eventually to the top of the mountain or to the edge of the sea. I birth feelings - what I feel or wish to feel or see others feeling. The tiny beings who dwell within build their invisible worlds and show me stories, they open my eyes and heart to all the lives I could live or have lived. I hold them near, for they are all of us experiencing this world.

Like fireflies, I see them flitting through channels of energy, feeling a spark here, another there, but they always return home to rest and recharge in my Center. I feel them in the static when I brush my hair, charged with power, wisdom and the strength of the Divine Feminine. The tiny beings that dwell within, lighting their hearth fires, keeping the love lights glowing in all seasons.

Are the stories within any less real simply because they have yet to breathe?
Are the stories and their beings less deserving simply because they are imaginary?
What is imagination anyway but the creation of life from nothing?

The stories are not new and neither are their beings. Cycles come and go, and the stories are our living of these cycle, within and without, but nothing is new really. Only our perception is new, fresh. Maybe I couldn't hear the message, their voices, Her voice, any other way. Maybe this story, this character, this experience, this tear or death or fear or breath, will be the spark that lights the fire that shifts just one person backward or forward into Harmony.

And so I hold the stories within as they grow until they are ready to be born...

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