Philosophy, Poetry

it is

I don’t care if other people don’t believe it.  I know it to be true.  There’s something I can’t pin-point. It doesn’t lend itself to description, but I know it’s there. It’s the ever present knowing of all things. Something much, much greater than our pushing and pulling of life, our fighting to conquer and achieve.  The Something is delicate and beautiful and graces the greatness of humanity in all walks of life. It dignifies us. It makes us beautiful. It is Beauty itself. It is Expansion. It is the whirlwinds of transformation in our souls. It is Magical. It fights on behalf of the “Children of the Great One”.  It defends us.  It defends our hearts.

Some people want to own it. Others want to tame it. The ignorant think they can manipulate it. It’s not a whore. The price is your life. Your heart, your soul.

It is the power behind art, the silent lift in the air that surrounds the inspired one. It is the magic in the carpet that carries you on your way. It is the gold in the path of your destiny. It is subtle power.  It stands next to you awake, walks when you walk, runs when you runs, and lays you down to rest.

It canopies your dreams with tranquility.

You are the beloved one.

Walk. Walk. Walk.

3 thoughts on “it is”

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