the strive to recalculate, re-instate, learn to appreciate our untold story is a journey unbound by the mind...
in the wee hours of winter we await the erratic, tempestuous springtime to prove her legacy inaccurate with days drenched in warmth, an instant redemption from february's frozn promise.
the quickening takes hold of those on the path, arresting awareness unabashedly, without reprieve, delivering curated truths to re-align us with ourselves.
the answer to the question is the question itself. or rather lack of need for any questioning...
the masses who lay asleep in their manufactured prisons,
do they not deserve to be awoken lest they miss the opportunity to transcend?
once i believed that my dharma was to be a catalyst for all whom cross my path,
in vain- i struggled for victory in the canvass for their souls, knowing not i had no power beyond the intangible breath of inspired action,
departed now from the tethering of attachment to the strive to evolve all else,
with a wisdom awoken within i have no compulsion to fret with the dis-informed troops of a failing system. still i love them all the same.
within the great sacred geometrical vortex of our bodies,
answers unfold like a golden spiral- awaiting the nod to begin its growth,
for every quarter turn we make,
we re-confirm our interconnection,
with a divine system of perfection,
and in line with natural order there is no strife henceforth to contend.