It’s in the leaves of the dormilonas, that concept of sensitivity, that we try to skirt so as not to touch and disturb the peace of the night fog on cool leaves. I try to lightly tap them as if I were stroking pools of water so softly so as to not disturb the surface tension. So lightly like tiny mosquitoes soon to become part of a sensitive web of food that allows the flora and fauna to keep cycling through the carefully selected genes in nature. All is so sensitive and perfectly still as it vibrates atomically to frequencies indistinguishable to human ears. May the choices I make remain aware of the softness of this Earth and its inhabitants and may I take care of all in my travels as a world/life explorer.
They look at you, knowing you, giving you the space to grow. They let you explore all the different terrains that intrigue you, all the while knowing that their home is the one you’ll return to. The focus is on the long game and the creation of a nation between your two warrior tribes—you two against the world. The story is in their eyes as they look at you knowingly and they recognize that you are thine.
It isn’t an easy world when it comes to the manifestation of love. You are right to open yourself to the pleasant vibrations made by the strings of Cupid’s bow, but take heed and be careful… not all doors are ready to open. Not all shells house perfect pearls. So manifest your love and dreams, all the while treading carefully through the thorny brambles of forests recently burned. Not all who want to love are ready for a never ending ecstasy blessed by the great Aphrodite. Listen to your goddesses and let patience and clarity guide you through the burning forest and into wildflower meadows by the sea. All that you seek is already there ready, waiting for you.
Wisteria skies are on fire with the pretty pink and purple petals against the backdrop of red and orange sky-flames. Time shifts and rolling white foamy clouds fill a cold sky as hail and snow fall in disorderly ways. The warm liquid pours down my throat, leaving a burning sensation when all outside is freezing. My hand is held and I am wrapped in strong and safe arms. I just had the realization that the skies mirrored what I once called love.
The truth is that it matters little what it may be; wether there is truth or a lie is of small consequence. Who better than yourself to realize that this world will serve you a cold dish or a warm broth? Remember that you will at least always have something in your kitchen and those who eat from your fine china will feast tonight. Those who do not sit at your table shall never truly dine on your delicacies for an appetizer does not a whole meal make.
Sometimes the power lies in your fingertips as they caress the darkness inside of you. Your fingers caress the darkness surrounding you and turn it into a vague light—a slight illumination of demons and angels housed inside your soul. Let the night breeze guide you into a spell that you sing like a lullaby for the flowers growing around your foundation. The silver glints in the candlelight as you let the building catch fire so that from the flames, your spirit can be reborn. Rise from candlelight as the candle burns out and smokes itself into the nothingness unrecognizable as air. Light irradiates from you and warms the frayed buildings that housed your beliefs in between the night sky. How perfect did your shell burn into and outwards throughout the night.
Without even knowing what she’s made for, that stranger caught her essence in the air like the scent of mango flowers often confused for jasmine flowers in spring evenings.