Beginning with Goodness

You know, I used to see my sin first — the flaw of humanity running in my veins. Goodness lived in the next town over, (me) always traveling, never arriving. I used to view myself as a twisted ray of light with a deep urge to straighten out. If I studied hard enough and gave my time away, would it prove my value? and yes, I knew Jesus at the time and the story of how he cleans my slate and makes me shiny as a whistle but somehow, what this did, was allow me to claim grace for myself,…

Have You Ever?

Have you ever felt boxed in like you needed to break out? Have you ever had a big dream, but didn’t know how to get there so you wrote it, sang it, spoke it to the universe? Have you ever started something from nothing? Have you ever look at your hands in awe for what they create? Have you ever wondered where your ideas come from? Have you ever had sight for the invisible? Have you ever had a door open that you didn’t understand but you walked through anyways? Have you ever disappointed others by following your soul song?…

The Holy Seed

The seed, not doing work, not making something happen, falls into the ground of being. The seed allows 
the thin darkness to shield, the oxygen to pulse with a tempo of trust, a stream of water to move in and through. The seed, in its’ ground of being, receives the pouring of light, reaches beyond itself, grows from the center out. • The holy seed,not striving for status,not proving a point,is the ground of being. The holy seed allows the womb darkness to nurture, the human oxygen pulse with a tempo of trust, blood and water to move in and…

Making Room in the Darkness

You see, dear one There are mysteries you don’t understand, tragedies you don’t comprehend. I am the Mother who hovers and veils all my children with steady, beating love in times of darkness, with rolling waves of compassion in the waiting. I hold the sorrow of hearts and place them in the night sky, a remembrance of luster and ebony twirling together. I live within the container and beyond the container— vibrations of my voice heard even in the driest desert. Remember me? Blessed Mother Mother of Grace Mother of Strength Holy Mother Mother of Jesus Mother of You. I…

The Gift of the Invisible Instinct

I spy what lies before me — simple analog clock pesters me with kronos time – tick, tick, tick fading moon peeks airy consonance from behind a hazy, morning cloud hot teacup invites me to linger a bit longer before the groove of tasks press All a reminder of living, here, in this age of ancient future Yet, I’m most interested in the sensing of invisible ideas imaginative whimsy intuitive nudges This secluded insight takes form in the white space of silence, the unspoken sparkle of a fresh encounter, the dreams that leave an imprint upon waking. This cloaked vision…