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Nature Whispers, Remember Who You Are


On a planet that is so diverse with every kind of natural wonder we could dream of, isn’t it incredible how nature doesn’t have a divide and conquer approach with hidden agendas or malevolent motives?

Rather, things coexist and intermingle as an unspoken state of harmony in simple and mutual understanding that gives and receives in flow of one’s natural essence.

Nature knows the integral web that each thread has value in.

You might say, “Well, that’s nature.”

An interesting remark considering some may believe there’s no, or little, consciousness in nature like humans experience and yet nature sure does things miraculously, in balance, and left to her own devices, knows how to regenerate and thrive.

If we think in any way that we have more awareness or consciousness than nature, it bears asking why we are so out of balance and in fight against ourselves?

We are part of nature so why not say,  “Well, that could be humans too?”

Instead, there is often a divisive and conquering drive that desires power over most anything, including the power to go against our very nature.

When I look out on any landscape I see my, and our, potential that we’ve forgotten – to live as masterful works of art like nature does, weaving our colors together as one.

Days come and go, but unconditional love is eternal.

Feeling the ways in which we can learn to expand or limit our experience.

The heart is the bridge.

Remember Who You Are


The Invitation to Return


wormhole vortex

 

The vortex opened – an invitation extended.

Timeless eyes and familiar hearts ignited with mine.

They moved to the left. They moved to the right.

Then met me directly.

I stayed at center – Maiden, Mother, Crone creating a Triad from where I stood.

Above, or was it below? Depths and expanse infinitely opened.

Blue pierced the veils and they ascended through and beyond.

The vortex remained open.

Why did they leave me I cried?

Then realized the irony of my question.

They had not left, but await my return.

 

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