The peaceful lake…

Beside the peaceful lake…so serene it brought me quite awake.

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The still waters began to flow. The lessons of  many lifetimes of long winter nights left me now as I began to know.  What a delight! The love of the Creator as It begins Its flow fills with me joy and wonder. As the hard ice  pieces  of many lifetimes are torn asunder.I am graciously endowed as on my inner knees I humbly bow.The buds are now starting on the pine.They reflect the awakening  in this heart of mine.  Beside the peaceful lake so serene it brought me quite awake. I am so  very utterly serene as I bask in the love.

I am filled with joy for goodness sake. 
https://www.facebook.com/colin.hall.313
 

Creator…more surrender please?..artwork by Colin Hall

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I  have awakened now from a deep sleep, from the sorrow and the strife.

I have gone beyond the borders of conventional space and time.

I have surrendered all my cravings, needs, and valentines.

I have taken out the memories and given my head a shake.

 What did I think I was waiting for, “for heaven’s sake”?

Did I not come for service, to learn on bended knee?

Did I not come to be, less of me, more like Thee?

Did I not come to share your love, with every leaf and flower?

If this is true, how can it be I do not serve

with laughter and give thanks every blessed hour?

How can it be with all these gifts, I am not sharing with another

A life of joy your love has taught giving kindness,

compassion and love to each child, sister and brother?

1528575_525105157588223_1654801792_nHow can I serve to share your love, that is freely given me?

How can I make each day of service….more loving, more free?

More of your love in service…less of me and more like Thee?

The Dancer’s Star Blanket

Blue Star Quilt

 

Across the ages she has come 

 

to dance, to love and laugh

 

“Her laughter,” the old ones say “is too loud.

 

Her feet do not pound the earth as others do.”

 

But her heart dances on

 

and she gives the love

 

Keeping her promise is all that she knew.

 

She needed to learn more.

 

She thirsted for the knowledges

 

in every leaf and rock.

 

She annoyed every one

 

with her searching for the search.

 

She burped and farted…they mocked.

 

No one ever knew

 

the courage it took to ask.

 

No one ever knew

 

her deep love for Mother Earth.

 

No one ever knew

 

her deep abiding love

 

for the Creator.

 

Until they saw her last dance.

 

She knew.

 

She laughed.  

 

She burped and she farted.

 

When the competition was over…

 

The young ones, were surprised

 

that they were asked to join

 

in the making of her star blanket.

 

The old ones, smiled and said…

 

“Just because she did not win in the competition

 

Does not mean, that the prayers stop.”

 

The blanket was made amid laughter and tears.

 

They knew she was dying…there was no fear.

 

When the time comes

 

the old dancer will be wearing  

 

her star blanket

 

as she dances her way home.

Lone Star Quilts

 

So glad to be old…(full moon humour)

Full Moon
Full Moon (Photo credit: Mugunth Kumar)

When I was young I worried.

I worried,  I would not find you.

I worried, you would not like me. 

I worried, you would not understand me. 

Now, I am old I know…

SWSWSW.

(Some will, some won’t, so what.)

Full Moon
Full Moon (Photo credit: I am marlon)

Wild women of song…who embrace the wind when we hear it.

Bonfire
Bonfire (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn)

I have laid my cares on love’s pillow.

I am gone away to dance with the willows.

It is my duty to pound the earth with my feet.

I must awaken all creatures and  others I greet.

We must sing, dance, drum and capture the love of Spirit.

We the wild women of song, who embrace the wind when we hear it.

We will untie Mother Earth from the bondage of men.

With our love, over and over and over again.

Shall we dance sisters?

Shall we drum?

Shall we do the duty

For which we have come?

Come, dear Sisters, I have lit the fire.

Bring the others, when it is their desire.

Bring them back to the words of old.

Bring them back to the stories of gold.

Bring them back to the water pure.

We can bring them.

Love is the cure.

Sisters of the Soul

 

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She sings.

 

A very sacred song.

 

She drums.

 

To help Mother Earth stay strong.

 

She serves.

 

Sitting waiting for the baby to be born.

 

She listens.

 

Forgiving all for the gossip and scorn.

 

She learns.

 

All the lessons of becoming a mother.

 

She loves.

 

The family of her extended family…all every sister, child, and brother.

 

She laughs.

 

The wind blows the cobwebs from her mind.

 

She lingers.

English: This picture is of the seven sisters ...
English: This picture is of the seven sisters who created the Sisters Family Cookbook and their mother on one of their Sister Gatherings. Category:Sisters (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Spending time on your interests, her heart a valentine.

 

She weeps.

 

When you are hurting, she stands with you.

 

She winces.

 

When she listens to the news.

 

English: Yusif Vazirov (Chamanzaminli) with hi...
English: Yusif Vazirov (Chamanzaminli) with his mother and sisters and brothers. Clockwise, starting from left: Azat (YVC’s youngest sister who was the mother of Tahira, wife of Ziya Bunyadov), Goncha, YVC, Bayim, Ziba. Mother Seyid Aziz in center and little brother reclining on floor is Miri. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She wonders.

 

When the world will have a more loving view.

 

She whistles.

 

Watching her toubles dissolve in song.

 

She waits.

 

Knowing one day you will come along.

 

She whispers.

 

To elder of the stories of their youth.

 

She weaves.

 

Stories of delight and truth.

 

She is you my beloved Sister of Soul.

 

She is the friend, who helped make me whole.

 

She is the  one who helps my heart to do cartwheels.

 

She is you my  dedicated Sister of the Shield.

 

 

Fran Blackwell shares Well is It? (beloved Guest Author)

What Is?

October 3, 2013 at 5:55pm19840_1351531873385_2010256_n

Well Is It?

Life is like memory foam,

Each and every impression, thought,

in each moment impresses itself

like a deposit left behind,

left behind within the fabric of life….

this is one of the many reasons time is illusion,

even if outer structures change within the

outer environment, these impressions left behind

can be read within the sacred text of living.

What is the substance of all the converging

energies in this fabric of life……..

this started with the question:

does memory foam fall prey to Alzheimer?

Combining with the elements of reading the sacred in everyday life,

each moment can be read like pages of a book.

A book of all moments in the passing parade of

the moving river of life.

A library of human and spiritual experiences,

imprinted waiting for it’s recognition, of the stories to be

not just be told, but heard,

a women giving birth, crying out as labor pains assault

her presence of mind,

a flower growing from seedling form sprouting into

the light for warmth and nourishment,

someone hungry and longing for God fell asleep

in the exhaustion of the journey,

yes,lay their head down in surrender on this spot of earth

where now a sidewalk covers its instilled memory

and the foot prints of countless souls who have walked this

way leaving behind in their wake, tears, cries, laughter

dreams,hopes, fears, that carried them through

lifetimes,looking for answers that cannot be found

in just one lifetime, it takes many many incarnations

of longing, and wanting, and willing to give it all up

and would surrender it all, if only the dream would

come into focus….to see clearly…..what this empty longing

is about….and why it is all consuming in its relentlessness,

wishing and beseeching all that is holy,

does not bring the answers closer.

Yet how can it elude Soul making sincere request?

Ah ha, it cannot, one of the laws of Spirit, is reciprocity,

when sincerity is in the request it must respond in kind,

yet the memory imbedded within the journey of one Soul, all Souls

is there lingering within the very substance of living.

This song of all Souls crying out to God….

can be heard,

Can you hear it?

Can be felt,

Can you feel it?

It remains forever, imprinted in the sacred book of the heart, all hearts.

It is also the cry in the night,

when Soul cry’s out to God,

Help me, help me, I can’t help myself.

This cry each and every Soul has cried

thousand sand thousands of moments out of time,

heard by God, never forgotten by God.

Imagine if you will, the grand design in place

to lead each and every Soul willing to surrender

to the will of God, to a meeting with the Beloved One.

Spiritual discoveries abound within this meeting,

what are they?

All the illusions taken for reality are necessary nothings,

It is the divine plan leading Soul to its rightful place

to take up residence within the Heart of God’s Grace.

But the best is that this is where Soul always existed,

and all the countless struggles necessary for the refinement,

the peeling away spiritual cataracts from the eye of the beholder

only because of the moment of wanting Gods

Presence more than air

more than life itself….

the moment Soul knows and declares, I cannot exist one more second without God ,

is it discovered Gods presence and the Beloved of God, has always been with Soul,

carrying Soul through incarnation after incarnation…..

And the residue left behind, of itself and countless other Soul’s

Soul remembers, and something stirs within….

Leaving Soul to tremble in its wake,

awaking question,

WELL IS IT?

…..

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Basking beneath the moon…with photo art by Colin Hall

English: harvest moon

I turn from

the world material

into the worlds  ethereal.

I sit in silence  under the glowing moon.

Knowing,  I will be there soon.

Beyond the moon,

beyond the sky 

To the place where there is no “why”.

In the land of endless day

where fairies, divas, animals,

 all Souls  come to play.

I still myself  further still.

I am surrendering

 now to the Will:

Of the One

who put the stars in place;

Of the One

who loves the wart on my face. 

I move

without moving.

I dance

without the grooving.

I bask in the moonlight’s  ”sweet -silver” glow.

I am “re-membering”

 the things Soul already knows.

The things I knew

1425560_512362098862529_1647208142_nColin Hall  11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111before this time.

The things I came to learn

on this  journey of mine. 

The unconditional love  of Spirit,

Its peace is quiet…

but I hear it.

It moves into my very being

closer

touching me

soft as the petal from a gentle rose.

The moonlight now

caresses me from tip to toes.

It moves into my body.

It lights up my cells.

It soothes and quiets

the storm  

that was hiding within

(cleansing the place where

 I wanted to yell).

The beauty of All

surrounds me now.

is within me

showing me how.

Its beauty calms me

 gently spins me now

off into

the worlds divine.

Oh,  the love of the moment, 

That is yours and mine! 

I linger there for what seems a week.

I feel a tear on my physical cheek.

It brings me back into my body.

Into the moment.

Into the world of things

that now matter more

Because of the love and the time

I spent renewing as Soul

on that far distant shore

and the ocean within.

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