Manifesting one’s sacred space is the ideology of personal truth. Poetry in the ecstasy. A sensory expression. A consecration of oneness at the altar of possibility. Citrine clarity. Kyanite communication. An impression of the collective upon the individual.
In the timelessness of now, where beauty astounds and passion abounds, I live. I breathe in and out the momentousness of the Jefferson, its white caps reaching for the stars, which traverse the clouds of Magellanica, up and on towards Andromeda, and beyond. My alter. My consecration of the soul.
I am a creator, a master craftsman. The magician. I co-exist, co-create, commingle with the cosmos. One with the all. Outward and inward. Within and without. Magnified and minimized. The contraction within the expansion. The undulating wave of form amidst the formless. The yin to thy yang.
In oneness I am infinite. A room with no doors. Floating. Grounded. Where gravity meets levity in the consummation of solace. Within that sacred space of personal truth, calling upon a connectivity of mind, body, and soul, I create. I manifest. Translocating light and love through the energetic signature of beingness. Where reality meets imagination. For the purpose of purposelessness. Because. An expression of the individual within the collective.
Me. You. We. The poetry of consecration.
automatic writing gifted to me on 6/6/17 at 1:33 a.m. Channeled – from an other worldly source.