Earth Angels

Фантазия. Акварель, монотипия.

We are earth angels,
you and I

We walk the streets with bread in our pockets
feed truth to those who can’t be sated

We convene with demons on the lam
coax their claws out of the eyes of righteousness

We tear the flesh and dare not heal it
light the garden of your darkness with our seeping wounds

We grow flora in our hair, nurture earth’s creatures in our bosom
wash in salvation of the earth and stars and tides and of heaven itself

We tear down walls with artistry,
dance the feeling onto each page caressed with holy fire

We renounce the vows of poverty, silence, and suffering carried for lifetimes,
made for holy men but not for human angels

We are the earth’s mighty angels, you and I
ordained for the deliverance of men across doorsteps
of light and love, into the arms of the ancient spirit of One

©SpiritLed

The Time is Near

Angel heart

The time is near when you will hear the whisper
when you will heed the song
when you will throw your pretense to the sky
and let you heart wander free

free to release the stirrings inside
hold them in peace and give them light to grow

free to open to the connection
that is your birthright,  your Divine gift
your alter to the Source of unconditional love
you can’ t lose it, it’s inside you

The time is near when you will feel,
allow yourself to be cut in order to experience the light
instead of always running into the arms of darkness
trying to numb out the lightest sting

One day you will call on us
and we will be your heavenly beacon
your burning light of refuge
as you make your way through this life

The time is near
The time is near

©SpiritLed 2014

God-Filled Cracks

grunge meditation background
Pristine ocean waves
call you to places you’ve never
dared to go, places inside
your mind where the light

burns bright and exposes
all your sullen and dingy
thoughts on god and why
he doesn’t show up in your life

more often, compels you to examine
under the force of the pounding waves
your acts of defiance
in the name of self-preservation

but which self is still unclear,
despite the microscope and
operating table where you can
carefully dissect and then put

the pieces back together
stitch by stitch, like a Frankenstein
doll with a porcelain heart,
stuck together with tacky glue

that is only guaranteed for a few years
and after that who knows what happens
to those shattered pieces?
Do they break apart and float,

getting lodged in the crevices?
Or do they simply disintegrate
as if they never existed?
You think the glue will hold

because you always were naïve
and the patched up parts
are your religion, the glue-filled
cracks where you find your god

SpiritLed 2014

More

The final day of vacation holds a sadness
a knowing that the hermit life created for a time must end
that all the sandy remnants washed upon the shore
which once housed life
now provide enjoyment for collectors

as their broken parts begin to renourish the shoreline
as your broken parts started to renourish while on temporary retreat

Yet the wholeness is still fleeting
as soon as the water washes upon the shore
it just as quickly recedes
and even an extended solitary stay
cannot stop the feeling
of slipping away

And so the melancholy pervades
even as the others play and walk the beach
in quiet confidence of more time

More time –
     It’s what you always want
     no matter the endeavor

More time to hug your children
More time to finish your work
More time to stay still

More –
     Nothing is ever enough

Why can’t the blessed moments in life be enough
     without wanting more?

Each moment is encapsulated in the now, past and
     future are no longer or not yet real

More implies lack, and looking out at this expanse
     you know you want for nothing
     except for More

Each shell you collected is real today but gone tomorrow
     and you still want More

Each day a gift, never to be received again
     and yet you sit, melancholy on the sand
     counting the hours until you must part
     rather than counting the waves, the shells,
     the single grains of sand that could fill up
     an entire lifetime of More

Waves, shells, sand
     they know everything comes to an end
     transition is the only way to sustain life
     they share their wisdom
     for those who are open to hear
     those who dare to turn their backs on More

SpiritLed 2014