Golden Solitude

Secluded she sang songs to herself
Each note took her higher and higher while some how grounding her to earthly reality
Quiet is something you can feel
Secluded and safe she bathed in silence
Nothing about silence felt empty
Whole she felt
The transmutation of loneliness to golden solitude
She found her everything in silence
Purpose
Focus
Heaven
Secluded she sang songs to herself
Songs of love
Love of all that was
Love of all there is
Love of all that will be
Each note her little boat
On the river of calm and clarity
Secluded she sang songs

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Heart/Home

Home is where the heart is

Stop

Take 3 deep breaths and put your hand on your chest

Home is where the heart is and your heart is in your body

The temple of your body is your home

How are you taking care of your home?

Have you prayed in the temple for your temple?

Home Home

Home is where your heart beats

Where your nerves and brain meet

Heart Heart

Heart is where your home is

Royal Palm

[found this in an email to myself from 2014]

She rode thru old spaces
Thinking of all those places
The words that fell from faces
Their weight had held her down
Horrified that she would drown
She now realized that  fight she fought
And the fucked up shit it brought
Those actions were the offspring of fear
Amanayea came with the light & made it clear
Fear is Darkness meddling in your mind
Awakened to Truth she put fear’s ass in line
She refused to focus on the fuckedupness of life
the constant replaying of perceived strife
She rode thru old spaces
Thinking of all those places
The words that fell from faces
They were never holding her down-
They were building her up so she could wear the crown

Goodbye Robotic Love

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Robotically she loved you till her circuits were fried

She had tried to love you- to stay true

But for you she was not built

Can not compute
Can not compute

Sang her rose gold heart

So she had to reboot restart

Her frequencies had changed

Freed from robotic love her rose gold heart sang

True only to her own expansion

It was time to indulge in elevated love of self and everything else

Art:

Tiffany Moon

Golden Hearted, 2017

Acrylic and oil pen on canvas paper

8in x 10in

 

 

Alien Inner-rupted

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Earth is a mother fucker sometimes. Earthlings are motherfuckers sometimes.  My grandmother tells me to worry about myself, to release those people and things I can not change. Sometimes it feels so hard to do – you know? She tells me that I am okay over and over. You are okay. Never in my life have I clung to two letters so hard …O.K.  You are okay.  Happiness and peace that’s what I seek. Spending time angry at two people who just will never understand me has made me crazy. *Laughs  It doesn’t make sense to hold onto those feelings – fuck ‘em and and hug ‘em says the beautiful rachet warrior that lives within me.  Truthfully, who I believe I am is what matters.

A month ago I didn’t even want to be alive. There were a lot of reasons. I deleted those sentences then retyped them ‘cause that’s the fucking truth and if it makes you uncomfortable so what bihhh. I write for me and this blog is an act of love for me and my great granddaughter; the one who isn’t quite understood by her parents because their  minds aren’t expanded and healthy enough to truly appreciate her beauty. Great granny knows baby and you are okay.

I’ve learned that to stay alive, for me anyway, I just need one reason – one reason to be alive. On my worst day the only thing that kept me here was the feeling of the sun on my skin. *Laughs  I am infinitely grateful for the sunshine. The sun kept me alive on my darkest day. Earth is a motherfucker sometimes but I love this motherfucker and I’m not leaving yet.

T. Moon

I wrote this listening to Sylvan Esso – Sylvan Esso. Play it Right and Coffee on repeat.

 

 

 

 

Dream Teacher

Once upon a time there was a beautiful teacher. Her classroom was filled with art and big floor to ceiling windows that allowed for the sun’s golden rays to pour in. Other teachers thought of her as a bit unorthodoxies. But that was OK. She knew what she was here to do and the thoughts of others would not distract her.

She had requested her children be allowed to have a longer nap time. She wanted each of her students to be able to wake up in their own way. Waking up was a beautiful unique experience and she felt it in her heart, right in the God space, that this was the lesson that they must learn for their lives. She wanted them to learn to respect and value their dreams and the dreams of others and appreciate the present from an awareness of the connection between their dreams and their realities. You see, their dreams would create their realities. She placed flowers and luscious plants around the classroom, and played soft affirmations throughout the day, she talked about feelings, and colors, and what they meant. She taught them to list the things they were grateful for and to appreciate Mother Earth as they connected their toes to the soil. She helped them to understand the complexities of negatives, positives, and balance. All of these things were to fertilize the soil of their subconscious and to enrich the roots of the trees that she hoped would bear healthy fruit in their conscious minds.

She had one little one that never seemed to need to sleep so she didn’t force her. She provided that little old soul with loner tendencies new tasks to complete during nap-time. Sometimes the little girl helped to get the snacks ready or she read books. Sometimes the teacher asked her to draw pictures of what her life looked like in vast detail and some times she simply sat in silence swirling in the present. She wanted the little girl to understand that though her classmates were not awake she was not alone and that she could still begin to actualize her dreams in that silence. She could learn, grow, and create in that silence. That was a blessing.

Each day the children would begin to stir around the 33rd minute of the hour.
Two or three would wake up early stretching it out and moving back to their seats, chitter chattering along the way connecting simply because they had woken up first. On occasion she had to check their little attitudes because they seemed to think that it was a race, that because they were first to wake up that somehow they were more special. They had not realized that her little helper, her little old soul had been awake the whole time creating in the quiet. She thought it curious that her early risers tried to guide the old soul as if they knew it all. This made her laugh. One afternoon she held the old soul’s hand and looked deep in her wide eyes and reminded her to listen to her own voice. It had gotten strong in the silence. She could trust that voice. She could use that same voice to tell those little egos to mind their own destiny. After a while the early risers stopped with this conscious competition. They learned that it caused them to miss out on knowledge and blocked their blessings and actually slowed them down. They took on a new role.

The early risers learned to love on and help the sleeping dreamers who woke up crying. Sometimes waking up is scary and you need some soothing. She had some little ones that would wake up ready to run outside and play. Lets go! they would shout. There were others that would wake up and just lay there processing. They would rise and take their places. She had some that would wake up and fall back asleep and wake up and fall back asleep. She knew that she would have to assist them in breaking this pattern. The time for dreaming is over. Be fearless and get up. There are beautiful things waiting, but they can’t wait forever she said firmly but loving as she gently shook their shoulders. It was time to start tuning in. It was time to start living in the present moment.
Nap time was special. The sleeping dreamers would become the reality creators. The teacher thanked God every day that she could be there in sunshine filled rooms filled with art to teach the children to dream to believe to actualize. Because one day the sleeping dreamers would elevate the whole world.
God bless the sleeping dreamers and the reality creators.

 

Love Lives

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Love never dies

Our love lives infinitely

Gone of the body they maybe

But our love- your love – my love- lives infinitely

Love never dies

Infinitely living love

The reincarnation of love

Swim in it

Love never dies- It is simply reincarnated