Spirit wanted to talk….
It’s only through sifting sludge that we find the gold. Excavation must occur, levelling, excavating, blasting and shaking the foundation is required. The reduction to rubble is how we can move through the debris to find and assemble the most perfect elements and minerals. We will sort them and distribute them to the most beneficial places.
The seas and the lakes will remember their their purity for they are the lungs of the earth, they are the deep, deep remembrances even before the trees. They are the filter of life and energy- the masters of plasma- the conductors of currents- the waters of your soul. A stirring of intelegence, the innate intelligence of the cosmos - the keys of the creator awakens though the layers deep beneath what we call the shelf. Everything is understood and remembered in the deep waters- its intelligence is a reset that is slowly bubbling up to the surface- releasing plasma intelligence into the air we breathe, waking the realm of the walking.
Sweet music will bellow from the tree tops, like timpani the the mountains will rumble, like flutes the trees will wistle, like symbols the winds will rustle. A complete harmonious reset - a renew of the breath of life.
A compassion of extended hands will reach around the globe - indelibly imprinintng the blueprint of connectedness to all that open their hearts. You are never alone, no, never alone, you simply forgot. It was a stream of consciousness, a dream, simply a dream of separation and now it is over.
Gentle, like hearts opening and beating at a steady calm pace, eruptions will occur with your own hearts but not to destroy, no, not that, but gentle, so gentle, memory by memory the sliver of light, the sliver of love will pierce the the veil, forming a new truth of love, of lessons, of learning - from back to front, from history and mystery, the golden thread of love will weave its truth through your heart so that you can see clearly the perfection of growth. Weep you will - the villain and victim and now the victor because you know that all ground is level at the foot of the cross. The cross where your stories go to die, refined by the fire of truth without distortion. The tales you told, burned to the ground, sifting once again to find the gold and minerals, leaving only perfection of the dance you agreed to take. The oneness remembers that it is love individuated in all her expressions - so much vast love in a bazillion different ways, and a kajillion different moments. Life time after life time, layers and layers of glimmering beauty, a sea of shimmering crystals for all to see and know that it was all for love to know its self.
The pain placed perfectly just to see how big love can streach its self. Over mountains ment to seperate and seas that divide and skin that differentiated and blood of different letters. How delightful indeed that we can love at all in the sepertation, and now we do so knowing that we are one. Welcome home, were you never left at all.