God's beloved you knew when you laid eyes upon me I come from the source I can teach you my first time in a body I learn from you but a teacher learns far more from his student in training to go back and become a better angel the reporter of lost knowledge and researcher… Continue reading Dolores Cannon
I have to say without doubt it matters not the tree its soul speaks to mine because they know I am one of them they utter words my inner being hears with truest delight.
I'll be a black water river slow flowing dark water who took its time over brown and glittery rocks with mossy hair my fish would be well fed moving and wiggling about my mind leaves would sink like lead weights resting on blackened pebbles white sand on my shores surrounded by trees looking down to… Continue reading I’ll be a black water river
there is a beauty about being alone when the mind has been silenced... a cool night the night air the stars the trees the reflections in the water walking on the jetty alongside your silent ever present friends...
everything evolved from within the stillness inside what I believe must be the house of God.
within all the old forests with big tall trees there is a spirit there you won't feel in younger forests if you are going to cut those ancient trees down they know you are coming for them they have their own way you don't mess with the trees talk they have souls a collective entity… Continue reading old forest
In the morning I look out my window and everything is still there like it was the day before. it is with this predictability that when I look out to the blackened sky on a starry night I know God must be out there, somewhere.
In the midst of catching a glimpse of such a wonderful fluttering butterfly I was born I wondered who would know it was once a caterpillar without knowing them? and, then came the dark clouds in a flurry and thunder clapping the lightening flashing the rain pounding down I wondered where the butterfly had gone… Continue reading In the midst
I have told you I walk into my sanctuary. there, I see the birds, flowers, grass, a tree and vines growing up my block wall. all these, God's children, at play in his garden.
Believe in you for better or worse so that on your deathbed your soul won't be nagging you, beating you over the head with, saying... 'I told you so. you should've had faith in me, because I was your inner voice, your intuition who whispered softly as you chose instead to believe what the world… Continue reading Talking to your Soul