Grace works in mysterious ways. In the heart of forest, there is always a hidden footpath, a pond and perhaps a gentle deer eating tree’s leaves.
Walking with Spirit feels like a trance, flowers smell stronger, sky vibrates with more blues and pinks over rainbow of light, music of life becomes mystical and slow. Heart begins to listen to every sound of grow, there is a liveliness in moments, the somatic touch between skin of life and grace.
We, humans, thank the Earth for drawing us together, not see the underlying web of grace holding all dreams above the clean blue air.
So enchanted by our fragile form, we seek the return to Cosmos womb. Bound by gravity of our flesh, our feelings fertile of longing and desires, caged either in pain or despair, we forget how to restore our connection with heart of Spirit, we got lost in dream of reflections.
Inside the dream, underworld of our human emotions exist, where tears are full of intentions to be free, to give thanks to miracle of peace. And water the dry soil of hope, not removed but cure the nostalgic mushrooms, hidden in dark corners of shadows on earth.
The dream appears to be real, it has borders, a kingdom and a washed up castle with so many rooms, decorated with old and ancient furniture. How to wake up of such a dream? How could we return to heart of our forests?
Awakening is a moment of a peace, where outer is faded enough, and eyes could look into a new day, say Amen and bow to the grace, then voices become new and ears know how to listen.
Our Hearts asks, is this a new dream or our prayers are really answered.
Vision becomes clear as misty clouds sail across the sky holding the chalice of love, refreshed wilderness returns, poured on soil of earth, covers wounds of pine trees, and dry the blood of crying rocks. Silence opens and widens our bodies, the point of no return, full surrender to sweet songs of oneness.
Forests are holy kingdom of standing trees, power animals and magical birds. Grace weaves mystery over each leaf, at the edge of each rock. Sitting on top of branches, majestic Eagle see all soft meadows, the curve of present footstep into unknown crossroads of tomorrows.
Wild flowers chant over newborn grass and children find tasteful chestnuts in belly of standing trees, as sun quicken to sit on his throne. Grace’s touch is delicate, playful, spontaneous, unmeasured joyful, not like any other. It is the union and penetration between divine love and matter.
Grace is a pure running water from HEAVEN, a blow of spirit on face of earth, through you, for you.
Today the blooming flowers pray for the grand awakening of Grace in our Humans’ blood and flesh!
Wake up, wake up for this planet, for the standing trees, for animals and bees, for each other.
Wake up for Mother, Father, and Universal Heart, remove the shields, the shell, and the veil, and be touched by Grace of One.
Grace, the Sole beauty of making love with The Beloved, silent disappearance into stream of universal love. With the eye of life, see the bliss of being here, being who you are.
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