Gifts/The Chosen
Some of us have the "gift". We've been called to preach the gospel...spread the good news... and some of us speak prophetic words from pulpits into microphones....words shouted out, shouted at u piercing your very soul...moans and groans and utterances and songs sung in unison...the speaking in tongues...words not understood but felt...felt deeply by the utterer who knows not what she's saying but knows/feels that she is chosen to deliver the word...more important than the word the experience of being chosen...Some of us heal with our hands, some of us with our eyes...with hands...with hands...with hands....I write and deliver my sermon...with open eyes, ears and heart...I deliver it to you.
I see her voice, her face...why am I called to her? She, me? We've had close encounters across galaxies. We crossed paths in a slave dungeon. Exchanged essences...We became one and she used me. And since then I ask How do I know pain? how am I sensitive to it as an infant, as a child and, surely, as an adult? How is it that I am a healer from the womb? Have I healed before... before..., before arriving? What is her pain to teach me? What is it that she wishes to say through me?
You are an energy being. A composite. A collective...You remember everything in every cell...it has collected...all experience. All time is in you. You are a transmitter...U pick up frequencies. You tune in and broadcast the downloaded matter, information, unique coding through you...your hair, your skin, your eyes, your breath, your speech. Your essence is the drum...It speaks to you. Each pound expands your heart by vibrating, reverberating...resynchronizing with mother earth as she breaths.
Snatched, stolen, taken like a fetus ripped from your own womb before you were ripe...You were more child than woman but more woman than child in your wisdom and spirit and So were you separated from your home, your love, your God, your way, your people, your life. Separated from your life, separated from your life...is that death or just an altered state? and...The scar is deep...deeply felt...deeply buried. Every so often your pain seeks light- birth, seeks release-breath...only your pain/her pain has no name...no name but you exist and... She comes across as resistence, unrest, confusion...She is weariness, sadness and defensive-ness. She is the knot in my chest that prevents me from breathing deeply, fully, wholly, holy...She's speaking to me and I don't know how to interpret her language...the language that has shown itself in my body seeking to feel the light of day...expression.
They very vehicle that I ride with her on is attempting to mask itself as impaired. Holy one, speak to me, through me...I will know you in breath. As I breathe deeply, deeply, deeply...As I clear the static from my mind...it's clear, clear, clear. As we remember, so shall we be. Just breathe clear, and remember.
I shall remember you...one who has chosen me. Speak.
I see her voice, her face...why am I called to her? She, me? We've had close encounters across galaxies. We crossed paths in a slave dungeon. Exchanged essences...We became one and she used me. And since then I ask How do I know pain? how am I sensitive to it as an infant, as a child and, surely, as an adult? How is it that I am a healer from the womb? Have I healed before... before..., before arriving? What is her pain to teach me? What is it that she wishes to say through me?
You are an energy being. A composite. A collective...You remember everything in every cell...it has collected...all experience. All time is in you. You are a transmitter...U pick up frequencies. You tune in and broadcast the downloaded matter, information, unique coding through you...your hair, your skin, your eyes, your breath, your speech. Your essence is the drum...It speaks to you. Each pound expands your heart by vibrating, reverberating...resynchronizing with mother earth as she breaths.
Snatched, stolen, taken like a fetus ripped from your own womb before you were ripe...You were more child than woman but more woman than child in your wisdom and spirit and So were you separated from your home, your love, your God, your way, your people, your life. Separated from your life, separated from your life...is that death or just an altered state? and...The scar is deep...deeply felt...deeply buried. Every so often your pain seeks light- birth, seeks release-breath...only your pain/her pain has no name...no name but you exist and... She comes across as resistence, unrest, confusion...She is weariness, sadness and defensive-ness. She is the knot in my chest that prevents me from breathing deeply, fully, wholly, holy...She's speaking to me and I don't know how to interpret her language...the language that has shown itself in my body seeking to feel the light of day...expression.
They very vehicle that I ride with her on is attempting to mask itself as impaired. Holy one, speak to me, through me...I will know you in breath. As I breathe deeply, deeply, deeply...As I clear the static from my mind...it's clear, clear, clear. As we remember, so shall we be. Just breathe clear, and remember.
I shall remember you...one who has chosen me. Speak.
posted by Blackgold at 8:01 PM
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