When she had returned to elementary school after summer, rumors had spread there about her, as well, from the well-to-do families.
The teachers treated her with abruptness and cruelty, and she was often terrorized by the bathroom-stalking bullies.
With abuse also happening in her home while mother was away, it was with a thin grip that she held onto nature’s beauty.
Before it became safe to expose generation’s atrocities, she happened upon what some of the adults were doing with the younger children.
Trying to help her peers got her outcast from community circles where they called her a liar and “wicked.”
The kids were warned she was pariah, and once-friends called her names at her passing.
Her grandparents fought being ostracized while her grandfather negotiated to keep his job and position.
She knew she had been right to protect the other young ones, but paid dearly for illumination.
She was pressured to say publicly she had made a mistake – yet instead accepted isolation as punishment.
It seemed that from the beginning, she was ever searching for love.
Where there have become broken places, instinct seeks healing.
She had bartered her life for his, but at too great of a price.
I was forced to be still and not express art;
They beat on my head to break my heart.
They called me a liar, when I spoke truth:
Now I’ll be brilliant from ashes of youth.
I had asked for “an intervention.”
You know, like praying.
Yet on the day of the accident, I felt extreme anxiety.
Smoke from fires in nearby regions was hazing the local atmosphere thick down to the ground, making it hard to breathe, think, or see clearly.
My parents had just bought me an airplane ticket to visit them and I was worried about the timing of leaving my family.
When we had lived on the mountain, isolation made fears like the potential of fire suddenly spreading a grim and desperate reality.
I was wrestling with the odds and felt picked upon by the smoke energy’s chaotic influences.
It felt like forces that were once trapped in time’s matrix had been suddenly released by the fire’s combustion of matter.
I could feel the energies running rampant, like some great beast swirling, greedy and hungry to influence and devour everything.
I had to leave the house to escape the psychic bombardment grappling at my psychology.
And thus, I inadvertently found where the energy was free-flowing, thinking that by going straight to my physical therapy appointment, I would be securing a “free pass” by clear intentioning.
But the beast caught me at a stoplight, where I was forced to stay still while the opposite flow of traffic began resuming.
At least I saw the car coming from behind about to hit me – and could jam on the brakes so that the impact would not hurt anyone in front of me.
But this camel got suddenly “pushed through the eye of a needle.”
Yeah, that’s me.
I always try to be an “acception to the rule.”
Now, I am back in the realm of the “In-Betweens.”
I have to laugh because revisiting here is becoming another thematic.
Maybe I should just stay here.
Stop struggling and aspiring.
The scenery is lovely and the people seem to be genuinely caring and receptive to my being friendly.
Meanwhile, I am gathering resources to rebuild my ship’s integrity.
But my body’s strength got left back there on the street’s pavement.
Maybe if I keep driving over the spot, my scattered pieces will return to me.
I can’t go backwards in time, and I can’t make any external commitments while I’m healing.
And I do not know what the future holds for me.
What Phoenix Fire of rejuvenation can redeem?
I am working on generating magnetism.
She was battered and bruised
With wings crimping-spasmed.
Would the others of her kind
Still acknowledge her as kin?
She had only yet experienced
At best, haughty indifference.
Close, but not enough
Grounded, out of touch
The spells that had held
Her chained earthbound
Distorted assessment
Of her optimal ranges
Brainwashed to feel less
Restrained from her best
It took mistakes to learn
To trust her own instincts
And avoid limiting her flight
When elegance was inherent.
Sometimes, she saw when the shift needed to happen. Sometimes, she became the answer.
The queen disliked that now her isolation was of even greater necessity as she preened her wings in the slanted sun, perched delicately upon an enclaved precipice.
She saw the other dragons farther off, circling even higher, and took comfort in the fact that at least she could now shadow them at times, carefully gliding.
An uplifting and encouraging sense of possibility.
Knowing that it could not be corralled nor tamed, they learned to grab onto to its mane as it was passing – and leap onto its back to ride it to their own purposes.
Where I am going, most others cannot follow:
I must reforge the design of my sword, alone.
Hold me close to your soul’s pulse
So that I do not betray my spirit
For I feel shiver’s ache enroute
As address my past to heal it.
I know nothing can change
The damage once inflicted
Except by reclamation of
What I own that’s gifted:
I must finish these tasks
To cauterize old wounds.
Hold me safe, my reflection –
Let me not reach for another,
For caring arms’ alluring charms
Could cast my intentions assunder.
There were fish and plants to attend, children and loved ones, yet we were to meet on the platform and launch into space together to partake of the orbital science exploration.
Both of us from our versions of this world at last had premise to bridge the gap to each other.
How symbolic that the dream’s meeting place be someplace normally farfetched to others!
But that is the thing about you and me that we have in common: gravity does not hold us down, nor do circumstances truly bind us.
We are capable of disolving like shadows and rematerializing wherever our spirits call us.
“Everyone needs something greater to aim for, right?”
Her words were friendly-neutral – light and unassuming in tone, without any hidden or implied messaging.
But he could see the tell of her jaw muscles tensing as she struggled to not let him see what she was feeling.
“If angel number 939 is appearing repeatedly, your message is an uncommon call to recognize that your life’s purpose involves healing the world.”
https://www.alittlesparkofjoy.com/angel-number-939/
How exactly am I going to help do this?
I will aspire to tell my stories in ways that guide others’ comprehension to next levels of elevation.
What could it matter that she’d been called to seek him out, when her attempted audience with him had been rebuked by its being succinctly discarded?
Yeah, yeah – keep trying.
She was good at that.
He would respect that.
Her innovative tenacity was well proven in its successful accomplishments, despite history’s adversity.
She was more than capable of finding the route(s) best suitable to get her to where she felt she should be going.
She would create her own paradigm of status with more proofs to her track record.
Her resume would be undeniable in its validity.
But it would take time.
And because there were now other factors in place which deemed, according to her values, the direct approach to be now inappropritate, she had no choice but to remain indirect.
She was no longer sure that her hope for authentic connection with him was something right that she ought to pursue.
He seemed closed off and focused on his own line’s paradigms.
We no longer need some outdated paradigms – which we can clean up and get more functional, or leave them by the wayside.
Investing in the self so that others may follow such examples as to help us all find and obtain a Greater Truth.
How to learn from other people without allowing their code to infiltrate her own programming.
She had learned that quality interactions are the ones that really mattered to her.
Therefore, as she matured, she could temper the immense sense of loneliness her being felt when around strangers.
She needed to be careful.
When her heart’s source attached to another’s, she automatically sounded for and was affected by their tambour.
Sometimes, reconnecting with one’s ancestry can be of benefit. Yet, other times, it might reawaken what should be kept dead and buried.
As she slipped into the water quietly away from the burning boat, careful to not make any splashing ripples, she kept her efforts hidden by its form as she swam smoothly, submerging and reemerging only briefly for air as was needed.
Luckily, they lit the funeral vessels only at night. She supposed it was so they could all witness and experience the full effects of the pyre’s blaze enveloping and consuming everything.
She was not sure how she could reconnect with her children once she found sanctuary – or if it would ever be safe for them or her if she did so.
But she knew their people’s mythology should not be the end of her life’s chance for a new beginning.
A concept in which intelligence configures new ways to overcome prior limitations.
52 for me is like waking up to find that (again) all we have been taught is lies, and that the universe has been here waiting for us to reach for and expand upon our innermost positive capabilities.
They promote “happiness” to help keep us dreaming. But what if more chances actually happened in reality?
With advancements in technology, we are now capable of making our dreams become realities.
Oh thou most fragile sparks
Eager to bloom in twinkling
Come, be reassured by how
Together we’ll find meaning!
She was grim and uncertain, with a type of gruff exterior – until she met with the younger ones who restored her life’s motivation.
She had the ability to “enter into other worlds” – and to come back out again, shining.
In the Quest for Truth from the fires of loss and turmoil’s sacrifice, only One Flame beckons to which I’ll answer The Call gladly.
And this is where the girl in the mask sobs.
See the mythical creatures gathered around to greet and warble joyfully at its arrival?
When I had strained my lower-mid back birthing my youngest and then took a hit to my back from the horse accident, these same zones were affected.
But now I was more injured from trying to prevent harm to other people.
The male physical therapy specialist told me in a dream, “A complex molecular matrix that makes up stars…this is where you come from, Athena.”
“Message received.”
(What do I do with this info?)
I am the impetus,
The fuel to fire
Honing the sword
By pure desire.
I have been humiliated and cast out of homes again and again.
I need what I can rely on.
More than just a partner or a friend.
Curiosity inspired the cat to climb higher:
It had extra lives to reach farther beyond.
Inner muse once used for others’ purposes, I release thee to use your gifts as deem worthy.
To create an empire of dreams.
That fact that I see it, get it
And that most people don’t
Is of a torment unrelenting.
A waterfall within the veil
Where mists renew spirit
No man has ever beheld it
Though its song would tell
Of shimmer bells in well’s
Reflections bobbing easily
In pleasant sweet breeze
Cleansing any past griefs
For here the Lady Advocate
Brandishes her sword justly
Ensuring souls’ safe resting
As imbibing sun then moon
In moments that end too soon
Before weary travelers resume.
Your designs were brilliant in sending me those two dreams.
These themes spoke to my deepest desires, and so fashioned a man into a dream to ignite my drive’s passion to recover myself by striving.
Would that you were here in this reality.
Perhaps, then, it would be you I would also seek.
After she gave the crow family an apple in passing, they told their community about her.
That evening, a crow family came to roost in the backyard trees.
Now her family and the crows take turns sharing and observing each others’ antics.
Scientists have surmised that stars, planets, and other spacial matter are what we see glowing in the heavens when we look up at the night sky.
But what if these supposed “objects” are pinholes poked through the dark fabric of time from a blinding white light on the other side where other intelligence views us and seeks to understand itself through our eyes?
I get attached to my stories, for they are my memories. They are my experiences.
I feel sad when I have to leave each one behind like a trail of bread crumbs.
They lead back to where I started from, and they lead right back to me.
Crows and squirrels, mice and bugs – even the roots of trees – may consume what I have done, thankful for this temporary sustenance.
Like a mythical creature born to roam as the only one of its kind, I continue forward to seek the sunlight’s dappling.
Candid Corvid Productions 