Like by the Sun illuminated, dancing with exquisite taste, beautiful spiralings are formed. Great wings of soft feathers white casting virtues – spreading glorious light. Refracting rays of the source to man’s spirit knowing knowledge need not be strained, harmonies are formed and life is obtained. Receiving the mind grows mighty. Desire becomes purposeful filled with good intent. Services are willingly rendered unto the cause. Divine purpose ensures eventual success. Harmonies resonate – Is there now still a distinction? Are they not one in the same? Branch of the body, meaning a great accord with the one – harmony making me a god.
At first alone…..separate and distinctly unique, the node is identifying with the inner self. Awareness is inherent in this state of identification and lends itself to the nodes exploration of the faculties of perception of the external. The node experiences that that is perceived as separate and distinctly different from that known to the node. Momentarily discord arises. The node blames the “different one”. Then because of entropy and diffusion, the nodes perception shifts in time to a neutral and then a peaceful state. Harmony becomes established, with the synergy of the “different one”, the node is enhanced - Divinity reached.
Ok folks, its two quiet for my taste. I hope I won’t be overstepping my bounds bye extending a friendly little challenge to the group. Write one hundred words on harmony and discord. If you would like write about each separately. Whatever you’re inspired to do – I'd love to see anything.
i know this isn't the place for this, but i'm having somewhat of an emergency. i have to write a paper about a visit to an old cemetery orrrr a visit to chamblins bookmine (an old, crowded bookstore for all my out of towners) anyway, i can't come up with anything to say/get started with...any help?
Hardly do I remember, not so long ago, when the mysterious creature known as a “girl” became the object of my desire. Before they were good for kissing they were useless in my mind – troublesome, trifling and all to often know it alls who weren’t worth the consequences of spiting at. Then the change so subtle and so overnight – they were now the subject of intrigue and their mystery’s compounded. At last my relief and education came in the mailbox of a neighbor covered in confidential brown paper – A nuddie magazine told all. Holding hands leads to better things.
I know it it Monday, and normally challenges come out on Wednesday, but it is Monday and I am feeling inspirational. So, here is this weeks challenge for Dabblings, due by Monday, January 24th.
Remember when you were a kid, just burgeoning into a teenager, and you began to look at the world differently, especially the opposite sex, or same sex, or any sex. *g* Write in 100 words or less your first thoughts about that moment when you realized boys were worth more than just throwing sand at and girls had bumps in really neat places.
Quietly, I sit among the cherry trees here in my tiny private garden. I closed my eyes in meditation, focusing my remaining senses on the world around me to gain a different view of this little world. The night breezes, rustling through the cherry trees, pluck a few fading flower blossoms and drift their still-fragrant forms slowly down across my cheeks like amber parting kisses of the North Wind. Alone I sit contemplating my universe within my little garden, finding harmony and transcendance while my aged body slowly cools in the brisk night air. I am one with everything.
Oh – stay calm, these things that trouble you are but shadows. Fleeting horrors of the imagination without substance – for they can not enter here in the garden. The gentle rains are welcome. The warm sunshine from the Azure firmament is welcome. But these nightmarish fantasies of yours are not solid here – for you are in the walls of my garden and you are my flowers. But do not stray from here – for then your fears will become tangible. Out there the monsters become real. Out there horror is the crop and pain is the fertilizer. Please do not ask about the soil. Out there each seed planted is planted on the bones of the dead.
Oh how I long to comfort her
To dry her pearl like tears
To put a smile on those blood red lips
And hear the laughter in her voice.
Yet I can not comfort her
Her pain is too deep
The thorns twisted painfully
Thorns of love and loss.
Her flowers have withered
The color now drained
There is nothing I can do
I am powerless to help.
Let me paint back the color
My own blood will suffice
Take my complexion
My heart filling hers.
I stand alone tonight
In the blue starlight
A pearl tear on my cheek
Did my heart help...