When you look into the star field, know that it is a home. Know that every speck of light contains a ray of breath birthing on your cellular level that resonates within. It is this point. It is this mark that bleeds out into your being and lights the way home.
It cannot be denied, the pull of the heavens. It cannot be denied, the pull of the truth. It is the only answer to your existence. It is a coming home to your Self; a coming home to the One within.
And there are myriad ways of journeying this homecoming. And there are myriad ways of embracing its path. And some are pleasant. And some are not. And some sing the harp strings. And some pull the violin apart. And each has purpose. And each has a grace of its own knowing; a design in the plan of your making.
And the threads that interconnect and weave between you, and the balls of string that unwind in your breath, in your field, in the array that is you and another, and another, and another – in your meeting and your relating, in the way that you hold each other in your gaze, in your talk and language, in your spoken silence – these threads unravel and wind themselves around you, and around them.
And they may weave a blanket of beauty. And they may weave a picture historical. They may present a future of colour unlike that which you have seen. And yet they may be threads that when pulled reduce the string to inches and inches and inches of pain and heartache, and release and fear. And where this occurs: Purpose. It is not always felt. It is not always known, but it is present. It is seen from your soul’s perspective, from your spirit’s countenance, from your light’s dimming and raising bright.
It is a time then to reflect, a time then to sit with the grace of honouring your self and your journey, and all the facets of it. And then to weave again, a different pattern, a different making, a tighter bond in a more relaxed fashion. One that comes with experience. One that comes with understanding. One that comes with the power of knowing your Self. And then mighty is the production.
Mightier still must be the sword that could take to it, for none there is, except the Holy sword of which you hold, the Grail that you pour into, and the Cross that you mark. None else. And these you contain within. And these are your treasures each, for they speak of your wisdom and courage and your knowing, and your love. And they uphold you. And they shine with you.
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