She watches them at play; these little humans are such a joy to be around. She smiles at them when they turn to look at her watching them. They wave at her cheerfully and get distracted again by their peers. Each take their turn to beam at her and for every one of them, she quietly gives them her mantra of protection. She watches the folds and bends around them blend into a stronger field with her silent intention of love.
She takes slower breaths now; her physical heart is heavy and it cramps with emotions unlearnt– a reminder of the time left to complete her tasks and return home. Each morbid pang is a countdown to the expiration of her contract. She has already asked for a few extensions and they were graciously granted to her. She is not sure how many more extensions she can request for. Maybe just enough to leave them happy, see them grow up a bit more, help a few with their passing on before she takes care of her own. For one more moment, she smiles again.
The area between her shoulder blades hurts too. She has almost forgotten what was once there, what she was before she chose to come on this adventure. Hand on her heart, she closes her eyes to hear a distant echo in her mind, “We can experience so much and give more among them.” For one more breath, she feels the resonance of vague memories surround her.
He softly approaches her reverie and encircles her with his warmth. She remembers this soul from another space in an alternate time. He is here to assure her; it will be okay. Trust me, he whispers to her heart, you can. She feels his heartbeat catching up with her own.
Such precious flashes of recall, of promises made and kept, it is not easy to keep up with the many maps that layer her physical mind. Her sensory mind overloads with the various connections unseen and she opens her eyes to help focus on the current story she is in.
The children play on if only for a while more. Two golden rules guide their lives as they sleep; to love and be loved. And she will lead them onwards - Via.
[311.22]
Stones – my designs are mishandled
I am; I am not; I have been
Strangely out of phase, addled
In a shrivelled mind unseen
I erase all that scares me
And angers me, curtly
In a curative phenomenal trance
I let the preferred bliss of ignorance
Roll over and dull out life
A sentient has tales of strife
And in the smallest quark,
The lightest spark
Becomes inspiration that flames
Meaning into names.
[117.20]
I acknowledge your roots of being. You imagine and empower leadership for those who seek change. It unites each heart with moral purpose to make a greater planet of consciousness through peace. Thank you, for sharing.
