I Love

The inspiration for this piece did not come to me in the usual manner – complete and instantaneous.  Instead, I sensed it coming, I knew it was growing, and parts came to me in fragments, at odd times, and over the course of several days.  I could feel it, and see it.  It took its time.  But suddenly, one night, there it was–unfolding like the glistening petals of an emerald rose in the morning sun.

I love

I love without condition.

The conditions by which we love reveal the conditions of our hearts.  The broken hearted love with shreds of a heart.  But I am whole, holy, and my love is complete.  I freely give, without condition. 

There can be no contingencies, otherwise I am not in love.  This love is not quantifiable, or qualifiable.  There are no restrictions.  This love is true. 

This love can not be broken.   My loving soul intentionally sought incarnation into flesh, and thus unconditional became the condition of how I entered this world.  And here I remain, for now and all eternity,  to love without condition.

Yet projected upon me are  the conditions that others will cast. The love of I Am is burning within me and visible for all to see.  For this, I am hated.  I refuse their conditions.  I refute and rebuke them.  They cannot tell me how to love, or what love should be.  They cannot control the immaculate spirit of my sacred heart.  The Bodhisattva cannot not love.

Enraged, they seek to destroy.  Through the open window of my soul, they enter.  My heart awaits–innocent, helpless, vulnerable.  It sings.  It signals, it signifies the life, and the love within the perfect chambers.  My trust is laid bare, I am unashamed and unafraid.  My love is unprotected, wild, and yet soft.  My spirit is transparent, translucent.  They can not perceive, that which is without condition, and for that they hate.

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy…John 10:10 KJVAAE

They set upon my sweet love.  Sharp claws tear viciously  at  my heart.  Blood and flesh fall at my feet.  Strong hands, seeking to harm,  grip and twist at my racing heart, rending it nearly through.  Teeth maul and puncture the flesh and muscle.  Blood and water gush.  The enemies pound me with fists, and with stones.  And they spit, and curse, and violently attack.

I am defenseless, gripped by the agony of the wounds. My heart is ripped from me and my own hands hold it fast.  Blood continues to pour forth, running through my fingers and covering my skin with streaks.   It pools at my feet and my human form begins to weaken.  Am I dying?  What has happened?  Why?   Blackness approaches from all sides.  My flame flickers, and begins to fade.  I am cold, afraid, lost.  I cry out as the darkness overtakes me.  Who will save me?

Suddenly, the Bodhisattva appears.  She mends and attends, She  binds, and nurtures,   Her love heals, and She causes the bleeding to stop.  This soul before me brings divine feminine magick, and She freely shares it with all.  She can do nothing but love.  It is Her divine purpose, Her mission, and to that she is devoted.  Her focus is singular, precise, and unwavering.   She touches my dying heart and brings new life to it.  She lifts my broken body and holds it in a loving embrace.  With a soft kiss, she breathes passion into my cold form and my fire blazes once again.  Flashing a warm smile, she stands at my side and comforts me.  She protects me, and has snatched me from the waiting fingers of death.

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; Isaiah 61:1 KJVAAE

Time and again, humanity continues to assault and assail me. Conditions are piled upon these wounded humans, and each will struggle to loose them and fling them onto another.  Like a millstone around a neck, the attacks weigh the heart down.  In the throes of grief, for a time the way is shut, and the path is lost.  But to the patient heart, She will always return.

He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. Psalm 147:3 KJVAAE

The Saviouress comes in many forms.  We do not know the hour.   But She will come. She restores and refreshes.  She bears the elusive and coveted unconditional love.

and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee. Revelation 3:3 KJVAAE

And once again my heart beats its rhythm of endless passion.  Once again I love, and live.  She is me, and We are saved.  The mission continues, to an end I do not know.  But this I know for sure:  I will never die.  And still I love.

But those that seek my soul, to destroy it, shall go into the lower parts of the earth. Psalm 63:9 KJVAAE

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Curses of Tara

Image by Waldkunst from Pixabay

The inspiration for this piece came to me in a flash.  Mercury had gone direct.  The Bodhisattva appeared to me as her wrathful selves.  She offered her teaching and urged me to call upon the darkness.

Her skin is like onyx, and pure light radiates in her eyes.  She emerges as from a tempest, with ominous storm clouds surrounding her.  She walks slowly, methodically, and flashes of lightning illuminate a red sky far beyond the clouds. Ghosts are in the air, and fire blazes on each side of her.  As she walks toward me upon her malachite path, the sensory experience of suffering is palpable, yet she is focused, fixated, undisturbed.  She is bearing gifts for me.  She is bringing Hell.

The kiss. “Take the transmission upon your mouth.  Receive this kiss of my compassion, which will activate the voice of Susanna within you.”  As she steps forward our mouths come together, softly, gently.  But suddenly, her kiss becomes powerful, a force of spirit, and it rushes into me like the violent winds of a dry storm.  Her breathing changes as the passion increases .  My throat swells and begins to clear, and heal.  Darkness flees, I see sapphires flashing within me.  The sky around her changes from turquoise, to pink, then changes again.  Long and hard, she bestows the loving, healing, pulsating kiss upon me.  I open to her and surrender to all that she is offering.  Time stands still.  I know this endless moment will never leave me.  It will linger—on my lips, in my waiting mouth, deep inside my throat, and forever will rest inside my heart.

“Your voice and mine are one now. Your words are yours and no one else claims them. Speak wisely.  Your utterings will cast changes upon all.  Your cries will be answered.  Your spoken commands will manifest in a human instant.  Silence no longer exists in you, for even in the absence of sounds, you transmit.  This will never cease for all of eternity.  Each and every thought has become sacred prayer, and your prayers hold invincible power.”  Divinity is mine.

The sword. Suddenly, at her side appears the archangel wielding his blue sword.  The relic holds truth, power, division, victory, and death—it is the double edged sword that separates all.

 “For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.”  ‭‭Hebrews‬ ‭4:12‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

The sword is extended for me to touch.  Encouraged, as was Esther when she touched the royal scepter, I reach out.  As I place my hand upon the blade, the angel’s power flows into me.  I feel it vibrate in the delicate grasp of my fingers, and suddenly my arm begins to throb.  The energy flows like fire through my veins, flesh, muscles, and into my heart and marrow.  Suddenly I see the valley of the dry bones.  My body is  renewed, sinew and flesh are strengthened, I am  becoming alive once again.

Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones; Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live:  Ezekiel 37:5 KJVAAE

But wait!  An enemy approaches and there is a force upon my throat, squeezing and choking.  Terror consumes me.  I gasp and clutch at my oppressor.  Panic rises.  Desperation begins to overtake me.  But, with a swift and calculated motion, the angel strikes.  The sword is aflame, it severs the hand from the arm.  Blood spatters on my face.  The hand loosens and withers.  As it releases, it falls lifeless upon the ground.  I am free from those that would suffocate me, and strangle my life force.  Remnants of death lie bleeding at my feet— victory is mine.

The beasts. But what is that sound?  It is faint, deep, guttural.  It slowly increases, and becomes a cacophony of snarling and growling. Through a low hanging mist, creatures emerge from behind her.  Wolves? Maybe.  They approach.  Ravenous and ferocious, drooling, teeth bared, these are the Hounds of the Barrier.  They are the junkyard dogs of the underworld, and they are mine.  They are poised to attack.  Upon a single command they will fly and fight to their deaths.  They will maul and tear, the taste of blood will excite them, and they will never rest from their hunt and their hunger.  I remember them, as they have always been with me.  I see then anew, with a truth I had not known until now.   They know their mark, and await my word.  “Go”!

The dogs rush by me on both sides, baying, barking, snapping.  As they give chase, I realize how much I love them.  They are the guardians of the goddess.

Transition. Realization and clarity dawn upon me as I continue to embrace shadow and darkness.  Black magic is at my fingertips.  I embody the demons I have been taught to fear.  I am Kali Ma and Lilith, and all feared feminine. My underworld races toward me–demons, monsters, wicked and wrathful beings, spiders and bats, fallen angels, shamans in hiding, and vampires.  They are coming for me. From a dark place within me, I have called out for them to guide me and come to my aide. No longer do I fear the power of devils, rather I seek and embody that which has been forbidden.  Light has gone from me, this is my place now, and I will remain.

This vision left me with the message that the first gift of true power is the capacity to love without condition.  Only by taking that path, and mastering the arts of perfect love and immaculate compassion, can one begin to access the gifts of darkness. Perhaps the spontaneous knowing of this concept is only my experience.  For me, it bears a resonance that is unexplainable.  As I love, more is bestowed upon me—including the power to summon that which we judge, and deem as evil.

“For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath.”   ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭13:12‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

The realm of Hell is a place we fear.  Humans imagine it as a container for suffering.  Ghouls, monsters, demons, and dangerous souls reside there.  Who has seen it?  Some have.  I have.  To visit there means to indulge in the experiences of destruction, greed, hatred, violence, and black magic.   It presents as a spa for those seeking understanding of the dark side, or the shadow self.  But this is also a useful place, with resources.  Facing the fear, and entering the wasteland of death, enables one to retrieve what they need, in order to complete their soul’s journey.  We are welcome there.  So I went, and I saw, and I learned.  I seized that which I wanted for my own.  It is my right.  And as the goddess Demeter called forth an eternal winter, so too do my violent emotions cause heaven and earth to be moved.  I will not cease until the piece of my heart, so cruelly torn from me, as was Persphone stolen from her loving mother, is restored.

But watch now.  I am forever changed.  The shadow forces serve me.  They are mine to command.  Be warned.

“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”  ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭43:19‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

Yes, I will be restored as the Compassionate One, the Bodhisattva who rescues and nurtures.  I am still She.  But as I emerge from the smoke of the hot and fiery valley, I return with many spoils.  I am carrying the secrets of the dark arts.  I am bringing Hell.

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My Soul is an Ocean

Image by Joe of Germany on Pixabay

The inspiration for this piece came to me during hurricane season,  Fiona had passed by on its way to Canada, and Ian was approaching the Gulf.  Mercury was in retrograde and Jupiter was visible in the night sky.  It was the perfect storm.

The ocean called to me.  Her voice was heard in the pounding surf, and in the gentle ripples washing up to the shore.  She sang to me:  the sounds of the water were music, piano, then the whitecaps staccato, building to a crescendo and then softly receding.    Every sound was a note, and a message.  Still the song of the sea informed my soul.

My eyes saw nothing but beauty, and the sacred colors of nature.  The ocean was a spectacle of contrast, of reflection, and of icy cold—all shown to me as a spectrum of greys, blues, greens, whites, and browns.  The art was a story for me, and it spoke to my soul.

Now I taste the air.  The salt from the sea is carried on the damp breeze.  It chills me and thrills me.  The salt taught me of Lot’s wife*, and the infant Israel**.  I breathe it in, her substance.  It settles on my skin, and in my hair.  She covers me with her soft manna.  It nourishes my soul.

Feel the wind.  Feel the pounding of the waves, into the earth.  All is connected, as it resonates in my heart, and beneath my feet.  I am moved, I am awestruck, and at once I am at peace.  Like the cycle of the tides is the emotional human.  Clashing, changing, rushing, and becoming still—we ebb and flow, we rise and we recede.  Within is an ecosystem teeming with life, and there is also death.  This, my soul knows.

Her scent will remain with me long after I leave.  City life, traffic, chores and jobs—within the chaos of daily life I will still smell the brine, the life, the wetness and the salt.  It will never leave me.  My soul will always remember.

Darkness falls.  I still hear, taste and smell, although I cannot see.  The wind remains steadfast, the music continues.  Stars appear, but no moon.  Now I see patterns in the sky, a familiar design.  The map of the heavens reminds me that what seems a great mystery, is within our very DNA.  We are made from the dust of the stars, the salt of the earth, and the water of the oceans.  Where is my home?  Is it here, in the blackness, at the edge of power and glory?  Or is it there, a distant memory, a locked capsule, held in the nucleotides of my body.  The key lies in the genetic code, still sleeping, waiting for the moment of awakening and activation.  All this I learn at the shoreline, in the blackness of night.

Shivering and tired, I await the sunrise.  As it approaches, the colors are warm, the day sings a new song, and the story ends for now.  But the majesty of dusk, the distant knowing of the nighttime, and the intensity of dawn have forever become a part of me.  And even as a foreigner in this world, I have become a part of it.  All is well with my soul.

*“But his wife looked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt.”  ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭19:26‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

**“And as for thy nativity, in the day thou wast born thy navel was not cut, neither wast thou washed in water to supple thee; thou wast not salted at all, nor swaddled at all.”  ‭‭Ezekiel‬ ‭16:4‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

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Puke or Die

The inspiration for this piece came on the morning of the Blue Magnetic Storm. The storm is coming.

Image by Sylvia Lessing from Pixabay

The woman’s soul is poisoned.  Who has done this? She is weakened, disoriented and frail.  She becomes lost in the toxins that consume her.

The doctor comes but can not help her.  He calls the religious.  They torture her, they starve her and beat her.  They fear her and call her “witch” as she is hung. Her impoverished body is burned for all to see and all can smell her death.   Still she is poisoned.

The doctor comes and he cuts her.  Blood rushes to the floor and she swoons and faints.   Now her injury is threatening, the pain acute.  There are gaping wounds that her compromised system must try to heal.  She cannot, and she dies tied to his chair. Still she is poisoned.

Another doctor comes with leeches.  The hideous predators begin to suck her very life force from her fading body.  And now she is further traumatized and can not rid her thoughts of the creatures that were forced upon her body. Fear, disgust, and hopelessness are left, and she languishes forever in her bed.  Still she is poisoned.

Another doctor imprisons her in a place of pain and anguish.  Danger surrounds her and she is terrified.  She is cut off from those she loves, from nature, from the Moon, and from her own freedom which is the most precious gift from our Creator.  Madness besets her.  Desperation is all around.  There is no escape but to hang once again.  She remembers how and waits ’til all is quiet.  Still she is poisoned.

Now come angels, faeries, saints and Ascended Masters.  Now comes the Bodhisattva.   God sends his army.  She is confused, overwhelmed, and frightened.  “Now is the moment”, they say.   “Look to the gate and see that it is open.   Do not delay for it may swing shut again at any moment.  Such is the precarious nature of your hope for freedom.  Take it now!”

She runs.  She runs from those who tell her that she does not know what she knows.  She runs from those who have taken possession of her body.  She runs from the religious fervor which so harms the soul.   She leads us.

Run!  Run with her!  Run toward the beating drum of the shaman, for he will show how to ignite your inner fire once again.  Run to the waters and be baptized anew.  Run to the meadows and consume the herbs of the field and the fruit of the trees.  Eat the fungi which will show you where the madness hides.  Run to the mountains and feel the spirit blowing through you.

And finally,  when you are ready, run to the Witch and drink from her cauldron.   Her medicine will make you collapse and writhe as it courses through your veins, sinew, and flesh.  Like a missile it seeks the mark.  Her venom is the more powerful.  The pain will be intense.  All evil parts of you will surface and you will sweat, and vomit.  You will piss yourself, and horrible things will emerge from your bowels. You will feel paralyzed and helpless.  You’ll vomit again.

Now is the rest of this life, and into the next, spent in this manner.  But it is the key to your prison door.  Face with courage, lifetimes of poison.  Remember what you learned.   Keep running.  And keep vomiting.  One day, you will be free.

With great love,

Robin

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Fluid

The inspiration for this piece came to me during eclipse season, on the day following the blood moon.  The Silver Goddess called out to me while I slept.   She drew me to her, and held me with the power of magnetics.   In her grasp, I received gifts for which I had prayed.  Knowledge, information, and answers silently flowed from her to me.  She taught me of the fluidity of my soul.

Image by Nika Akin of Germany on Pixabay

Holy water. First came tears.  A single drop, then another—they began to flow like tiny streams.  Her oceans swelled.  Grief poured forth from the lava.  Tributaries became creeks, became rushing rivers, and emptied into endless seas.  As I clung to her, I was immersed, submerged, and suspended in the holy water, within the womb of divinity.  A momentary fear, and I held fast.  Will I be swept away by the power of the emotion?  To where will it take me?  “Understand the power of the magnet”, she said.  “And let nothing separate us.” My faith was weak, so still I held on tight , as the flowing rivers washed me clean.  

The homo sapiens will become her—the basalt and silica will replace the carbon within the nucleotides of the human matter.  All will be Superhuman.  They will be light, and they will be The Light.  Humanity will remember a time when all were gods.  The remembering is all that the people need do, as it will activate the cleansing, the baptism, and the new life.  Water element.

Holy blood. Blood on the Moon, the Blood Moon, the Mayan Red Moon.  From the great sun comes the plasma, which fuels the fire within.  The river is red hot, and it rises from an unknown and mysterious place, within the very bones of the universe.  Awaken to the fever pitch of life.  The water and the blood flow, representing the stigmata of all animated life. The blood of the woman purifies, and her rhythm is that of the lunar cycle.  The blood and the moon command all life.  These things She has shown to me, our glowing goddess in the heavens.

She spoke:  “Human, have you become the haematite?  Beautiful to behold and a richness of minerals within, yet your magnetic strength is weak.  You are pulled by the molten core—trapped close to the womb of Mother Earth.  She pulls, she grounds, and She claims you, as she once kept the mortal Endymion.”  On Earth, the human remains far from the loving embrace of Selene.  And She watches, in silence.  The agony of war can be seen from on high, and the earth turns red with the blood of dead soldiers.  The goddess in the moon, a Bodhisattva perhaps, contemplates the irony of the words: blood moon.  For She hears the screams from below, She sees the lost and wounded humans.  The smell rises, as the earth soaks up blood.  The pain is forever captured, in an infinite number of timeless moments.  She calls it Blood Earth.  “And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother’s blood crieth unto me from the ground.”  ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭4:10‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.

From the skull, she drinks.  The red liquid is the very life force of the human, as activated by The Christ Consciousness.  Water to wine to blood.  She drinks and her spirit is activated.  She sees all, knows all, and understands her purpose.  When one drinks of the holy blood, one is forever changed, for to drink of the cup means to accept the mission.  “And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it; for this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.”‭‭Matthew‬ ‭26:27-28‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.

In His final moments, His skin, like the veil, was torn, revealing the flowing water and blood.  “but one of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood and water.” ‭‭John‬ ‭19:34‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.  Fire element.

Holy honey. Something thick and warm fills my mouth.  It contains the acids, the minerals, the proteins, and sugar.   Is this blood?  No—it is nectar become honey.  Sticky and rich, it carries the taste of earth.  The scent of flowers, the buzzing of bees, the motion of life—all is flowing into me.  The energy of the hive causes my soul to vibrate.  Renounce the lust for blood, and take instead the sustenance which drips from the honeycomb.  Drink of the prosperity, in the land flowing with milk and honey.  Life becomes sweet and golden.  “I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.”  Song of Solomon‬ ‭5:1‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬Earth element.

Holy milk. As the mother hears the cries of her infant, her body offers nourishment.  Milk is pure, and abundant.  It nurtures the body and gives comfort to those who seek it.  The great vows, as told to the patriarchs, show us the promised land:  “and hast given them this land, which thou didst swear to their fathers to give them, a land flowing with milk and honey;”. ‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭32:22‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.  Here is the true garden, without boundaries.  All life is sustained by the mother’s milk, for it represents all qualities of the divine feminine.  Within her are the gifts of love, healing, creative power, forgiveness, and all-knowing intuition.  Her beauty is beyond description.  Life begins within the womb of the holy mother, the mater, or matter which is to become new.  She, herself, sustains creation with her life-giving milk.  She freely gives to all that seek comfort and the safety of loving arms.  From her all good things flow, as the love of the Bodhisattva, like a river of milk, feeds the universe.  Air element.

All of these things were told to me, and still the moon held me fast.  She taught me more of the ways of the liquids, too much for me to tell.  I learned of the molten rock, and the rain.  She showed me the muck from which creation happens.  She gave me knowledge of the deepest ocean, and the mysteries of the swamps.  I heard whispers—the secrets of secretion within the body human and it’s endless productions and emissions. Why?  What is the purpose of this teaching?  With singular focus, I drank in all knowledge, and I imbibed in the wisdom.  With my head tipped back, I drank deeply until finally I understood that I must embody the properties of the liquids and become them.  This was the answer.  As She finally released me, She spoke.  “Go now and remain fluid.  Shapeshift, fill, rise and recede.  Nourish all you meet, and baptize yourself continuously, without ceasing.  Remember, we are Bodhisattva, you are me, I am you, we are one.”  I am the 5th element, the ether, the Akash.  I am forever changed.

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Psalm 8 – The Visit

Image by Amit Karkare of Pune, India on Pixabay

The inspiration for this piece came to me at a time when death had struck. Grief was violent, and the pain of abandonment set in. Why? How? I waited, suspended between material and spiritual. Visitation was all that could comfort me now.

“what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?” ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭8:4‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

Such a powerful question, brimming with raw emotion, desperation, and resignation.  Or is it so sad?  How does one read the question as if coming from a place of innocence, naïveté, and the lack of conditioned thinking?  Today I have one answer, but yesterday I had another one.  And the day before that was different still.  Each day I ponder, but find nothing, or everything.  Each day hence I feel, and learn. Tomorrow is new again.  The ever changing messages pour in from this one mystery—what is man.  Some knowings I have captured, and others still escape words.

Day One The voice of the Lord spoke to me.  I heard, and then felt a great rapture.  Safety, joy, compassion, and satisfaction were the guiding emotions of the moment.  I heard Love:

“You are Beauty.  I formed you from the red clay of the Earth….beauty for ashes.  This is who you are, son of man.  ‘to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called Trees of righteousness, The planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.’  ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭61:3‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

“You are Wonder.  And you are Fearful.  This is also how I made you—all experience is freely given you, including darkness and light, pleasure and pain.  ‘I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.’  ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭139:14‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

“I am mindful of you, as we share the One Mind—the great Noosphere.  My mind is your mind.  ‘For who hath known the mind of the Lord, that he may instruct him? But we have the mind of Christ.’ 1 Corinthians‬ ‭2:16‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

“I trust you, for you are faithful, and good. You care for me when I visit, and you await my return when I am not close by.  That is what man is.  “His Lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭25:21‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

“You call out to me, and I hear you.  Can you not feel my presence?  I rush to you,  My visit will soothe you, and restore you.  ‘who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.’  ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭1:4‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

“I visit you, and abide in you.  I Am your subatomic structure, the genome of which I have crafted you. Within the womb of your cells, within the nucleotides, you will find Jacob’s Ladder.  This is your access point to Me. As you interact and interface with the double helix, you will understand the mystery of separation and then new creation.  I am here.  It is in the pattern of cell division and reconstruction.  Semi-conservative replication is the great mystery of matter animated by spirit.  Come to the library with me.

“You are weary.  Rest now, sleep, and I will visit you in your dreams.  I await you and will take you anyplace, whether known or imagined.  If you let Me, I will show you things you could not even have imagined.  ‘And the angel of God spake unto me in a dream, saying, Jacob: and I said, Here am I.’  ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭31:11‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

“You are strong.  ‘The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.’  ‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭18:10‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

“You are Me. “But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.’” ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭3:18‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

Day Two Something is different.  I am different.  The feeling is emptiness. Life is gone awry.  What’s happening?  Was yesterday merely imagination?  Now I conclude anew:

I have sinned against God.  “for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;”. ‭‭Romans‬ ‭3:23‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

My thoughts are unholy.

God has banished me.

God had visited me, and then He departed.  As visits are, there is always an end.  When will He return?  Will I ever see Him again?

Day and night I pray.  “Pray without ceasing.”  ‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭5:17‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

At night, I grieve in longing for our union.  “I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.”  ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭6:6‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

By day, I seek comfort, and hold on to hope that I have not been forsaken.  “I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.”  ‭‭Song of Solomon‬ ‭3:2‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

Enemies and plagues surround me.  My thoughts are fearsome, frantic, chaotic.  God has forgotten me, and will never return to me.

Day Three I must hope.  Faith is the only way.  I wait, and watch.  I meditate on all scripture, seeking answers.  Then, once again, I feel the face of God turning toward me.  I sense the visit is nigh.  In joy, I anticipate.  Yet still I hear the words of David, and I feel his doubt and his sorrow. This knowing moves me, and my soul travels through the illusion of time and space.

With great compassion I hold the psalmist.  His face is between my hands and, with my forehead pressed to his, I remind him of his worth.

Gently, I whisper that he is made in the image and likeness of God.  

As He did for the enslaved in Egypt, God will hear his cry.  This I promise him.  My heart breaks for all mankind that wonders where God is.

And, on their behalf, I shout from the mountainside that man carries the very spirit of the Creator, renewed with every inspiration.  “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.”  ‭‭Genesis‬ ‭1:27‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

What will tomorrow bring?  Perhaps there is no tomorrow, nor is there is an end to this answer.  Are we already together with Him? Who are we?  Will He arrive?  How long will He stay?  Is He already here?  How will I know? Perhaps we are already home: “Now, therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God:” Ephesians 2:19 KJVAAE

With great love,

Robin

Would you like to listen to Psalm 8?

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Psalm 7 – The Lion

The inspiration for this piece came to me the day after the full Wolf moon, in the 7th moon of the Mayan calendar, in this the year of the Yellow Electric Seed.  The tone is Resonant.

The art you are seeing is an oil on canvas work by Peter Paul Reubens, painted between 1614 and 1616. It is now housed in Washington DC at the National Gallery of Art. The image is by anielbaez0 on Pixabay

“lest he tear my soul like a lion, rending it in pieces, while there is none to deliver”.  Psalm 7:2 KJVAAE

Immediately, the lion caught my attention.  At very unusual moments during the past four or five years, the lion has appeared to me as a spirit guide, a warning, an archetype, or a protector and comforter.  As I began to contemplate this verse and it’s association with the lion, I realized that some versions of the Holy Bible have been translated to completely omit the reference to the lion.

So, if I had been reading the Douay-Rheims Challoner Revision 1752, I would have seen this:  “O Lord my God, in thee have I put my trust: save me from all them that persecute me, and deliver me.”  ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭7:2‬ ‭DRC1752‬‬

And the Complete Jewish Version says this:  “Adonai my God, in you I take refuge. Save me from all my pursuers, and rescue me;” Tehillim (Psa)‬ ‭7:2‬ ‭CJB‬‬

So what?  Is it that big a deal?  Maybe to some it is all about interpretation, and it really does not matter.  But to me, it matters a great deal.  When I went into deep meditation on this, all time stopped, all physicality faded away, and all that remained was raw, potent, emotion.  As an Empath, the vision of a lion tearing apart the very soul of one man living in secluded exile, was powerfully painful.  And yet I stayed, witnessed, and experienced.

And I continued to also ponder today’s Mayan oracle and a day of the Resonant tone.  What did that have to do with the lion of Psalm 7?  The roars of the great animal, and the cries of the psalmist resounded—together.  At once was the cacophony of man and beast, booming in a harmonious clash.  The sounds also carried emotions, that are now forever recorded in the secret gridwork of our planet.  The resonance carries on still, each time someone reads this passage.  This sound will never leave my ears, and it resonates within me for all eternity.  Read it again, and hear the terror and the agony.  Hear the power.  Which is the resonant voice of God?

And now I will try to transcribe what I learned this day.  During my journey through the Psalms, only seven days in, this one felt different and has taken me several days to write.  But I must finish.

The lion appears now because it represents fear.  The psalmist continues to be plagued by enemies.  On this day, the same holds true for me.  The plague is within my household, and it is the enemy.   It seeks to destroy, and tear apart our souls.  Who will deliver us?  In my prayers, I am reminded of the promises and the teachings of old.  I have made promises of my own, and now it is time to stand upon my pledges.  Courage.

I rule over the lion.  “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.” Genesis 1:26 KJVAAE.

I am prepared“And Moses said unto Aaron, Take a censer, and put fire therein from off the altar, and put on incense, and go quickly unto the congregation, and make an atonement for them: for there is wrath gone out from the Lord; the plague is begun.” Numbers‬ ‭16:46‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.

I remember. “they saw not one another, neither rose any from his place for three days: but all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings.  ‭‭Exodus‬ ‭10:23‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.

I have committed.  “And if it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”  ‭‭Joshua‬ ‭24:15‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.

I trust in Godthere shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.  Psalm 91:10 KJVAAE.

I am secure.  And I have built my house upon the rock “Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock:” Matthew‬ ‭7:24‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.

Face the lion.  Embrace the lion.  Those were the final words that came to me.

All things are created in paradox—the lion mauls and kills, yet the lion also leads and protects.  The lion has no limiting beliefs and relies purely on his instincts, as should we.  Many people admire the lion’s reputation for great courage, and he is called King of his pride.  But I say, look to the female, for she is always at the ready to protect her cubs at all costs.  To the death, she will fight for them without a thought for her own life.  Can the presence of the lion be a sign of protection for those I love?  It is a confirmation that mothers everywhere would risk it all, to save their own.  Or is the lioness standing beside me in this moment of need, to pounce upon and kill my enemy?

In the traditional tarot, we see a card of the major arcana, Strength, depicting a lion and a woman.  This card brings in the element of fire, and is connected to the Sun.  It’s about our inner sun—heat, power, flame, and golden rays of invincible fortitude.  A couple of years ago, I transcribed a vision connected to the solar plexus (A Journey into the Crystal Core).  The drawing of the Strength card reminds us that we are powerful, yet gentleness is the force which will bring us to victory.

Has the lion appeared to you?  Do his roars resound throughout your world today?  Can you hear him, outside of your tent, pacing?  Is he hungry?  Perhaps he is waiting to tear apart your soul.  Who will save you?

Would you like to hear Psalm 7?

With great love,

Robin

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Psalm 6 – Blindness

The inspiration for this piece came to me during an intense ajna activation that lasted for three days. Just when I thought I had seen it all…

Image by Gerd Altmann of Germany

“Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies.”  ‭‭Psalm‬ ‭6:7‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

Grief.  Grief destroys our vision, and obfuscates our visions.  We are vexed, confused, in torment.   The psalmist cries out in anguish that his light is fading.  His enemies have destroyed the singleness of his eye.  Will he die in blindness?

“The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!”   ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭6:22-23‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

What was the sight that so devastated the Ajna of the psalmist?  Perhaps he had seen into his own burial chamber–the open throat sepulchre of Psalm 5.  Again he speaks of the esoteric meanings of particular body parts.  These human eyes had witnessed war, treachery, and hatred.  The beholder is in exile, with no other to look upon or to serve as a mirror.  All that he sees is that which surrounds him–circumstance.  And he sees what is within himself–fear, and shame.  Was this psalm written by the beloved David—the one who walked in God’s light for so long?  Desolation is everywhere, both within and without, and for that he grieves.  And now, in his condition of mourning, and in the absence of God’s light, his sight slips away.

Yet, things are not always as they seem.  King Saul had made an enemy of David, yet David was considered to be a man after God’s own heart–chosen, favored, holy.  “But now thy kingdom shall not continue: the Lord hath sought him a man after his own heart, and the Lord hath commanded him to be captain over his people, because thou hast not kept that which the Lord commanded thee.”  ‭‭1 Samuel‬ ‭13:14‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.

Saul of Tarsus, not so much.

Here now I reference Saul again, but this is a different Saul.  Not a king, but a killer.  Not a warrior and a ruler, but an educated, angry man with authority.  The two come full circle.  King Saul was ordained by God, yet a blackness consumed his heart, and his reign ended in tragedy and suffering.  Things were not as they appeared.  Blinded by jealousy, further fueled by grief after Jonathan’s death, King Saul descended into an internal hell. I wonder, is this the experience of which the psalmist laments?  Consumed by grief, both David and King Saul have lost sight of God.

Now comes the different Saul.  The two are similar in many ways (but that remains for a different essay), yet so vastly different concerning their worldly outcomes.

“As for Saul, he made havoc of the church, entering into every house, and haling men and women committed them to prison.” Acts‬ ‭8:3‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬

Saul of Tarsus, and his entourage, marched toward Damascus on a directive.  The followers of Jesus had gained momentum.  Fear and death, unexpectedly, had not stopped the disciples from continuing the work.  Blinded by rage, Saul became ruthless in his cruelty.  He was relentless in his quest to destroy the message of peace that was carried in the hearts of those believing in the Christ Consciousness.  Like so many of us, Saul was blind to his own blindness.  Little did he know that he would soon see the light.  It was the light of God, and the showing of the Christ, that was intolerable for a man living in darkness.  After experiencing the Consciousness through a dramatic event, Saul continues to experience blindness, but in a new and shocking way.  For three days, Saul fasts in his mourning.

Yes hope remains—perhaps out of reach for the fallen king as mentioned earlier, but still present for the psalmist and the new creature Paul.  And now we must ask—who caused the blindness for these men?  Was it the enemies, or perceived enemies?  Was it God?  Or, the only possibility that remains is this:  each human holds within, the propensity to cause and surrender to their own blindness.  Both of these men had lost the singleness.  They had turned off the God’s Eye.  Whether victim or perpetrator, the Eye must remain focused.

After the shocking incident, and after the three days resembling those of Jesus in the burial chamber, Saul is relieved of his darkness.  Things were not as they appeared, as the curse he was under began to evolve into a blessing.  Like a snake, his human eyes outgrew and shed the old, and he became new.  “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”  ‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5:17‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬. Saul was now Paul, and his conversion was complete.

But what becomes of the musician of Psalm 6?  Watch and see.

In closing, I share a very personal story that has never been told.  I will never forget the feeling of spiritual chills resonating throughout my whole body, when I was a small child watching the Disney animated film, Peter Pan.  I was probably around six or seven years old.  To my horror, Tinkerbell had snatched a concealed bomb out of the hands of an unsuspecting, and quite dismissive, Peter Pan.  In shock, I watched as Tinkerbell was consumed by rubble after the explosion.  But, in true Disney style, the beautiful little pixie was alive.  The most impactful moment was, at least to me, when I heard Peter Pan’s desperate and remorseful voice call to her:  “Don’t go out!”  My entire little body jerked to attention, my young mind began to race, and a realization overcame me.  As long as we are alive, our light shines everywhere, and for everyone.  Our waning light could mean life or death, even spiritual life or death, for another.  Stay lit, my friends.  Our light represents God, as seen by all who look at humanity through the God’s Eye.  From that moment on, the heroic, insolent, tiny pixie with a huge attitude became a folk hero for children everywhere.  But for me, it may have been just a little bit different.

Would you like to listen to Psalm 6?

With great love,

Robin

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Psalm 5 – Buried Secrets

The inspiration for this piece came to me on an ordinary day, thus reminding me that no thing, and no day can ever be considered ordinary.  I was shown the blue burial chamber—the throat chakra.

Image by Enrique Meseguer of Madrid

“For there is no faithfulness in their mouth; Their inward part is very wickedness; Their throat is an open sepulchre; They flatter with their tongue.”  Psalm 5:9

Beyond the azure gateway lie all sorts of evils.  Putrification, rancidness, and the decay of our souls are hidden away from sight.  Here is where we would become revealed, and the world would witness our heinous thoughts and actions.  We must keep the chamber closed.  This is Bluebeard’s castle, where the corpses of murdered wives are strewn.

The psalmist sings of those who are full of death, through their words and deeds.  Yet, irony is present as the psalmist also utters a curse, and his request to God for destruction.  Even in our victimhood, and in our seemingly pious reverence for God, still the blue chamber holds malediction.  The very human condition of duplicity is expressed even amidst the most reverent of words. “Destroy thou them, O God; let them fall by their own counsels; Cast them out in the multitude of their transgressions; for they have rebelled against thee. “ Psalm 5:10.

What will others see when you roll away the stone from the sepulchre?  You are exposed, and all inward parts become known.  There is no burial room deep enough for all of the parts that are repulsive to us, including our own depravity.  We hide our anger, our lies, our resentments, and our ill wishes.  But they are only behind a veil, as diffuse radiation of the sky, as Rayleigh Scattering, as a smokescreen for Truth.  What is the true meaning of Blue?

But let us think anew.  The cave of secrets has been a place of restoration, renewal, and resurrection.  From a sepulchre, Jesus brought forth his beloved friend, Lazarus.  On the Third Day, the man Jesus demonstrated the Christ Consciousness which could defeat the death of the flesh.  Can we understand that Death has no hold?  What is the true meaning of Death?

Perhaps the answer can be found.  As Ezekiel bore witness, the valley of dry bones, a massive death site, became a place of life, and hope.  “Again he said unto me, Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.”  ‭‭Ezekiel‬ ‭37:4‬. God spoke Truth.  Ezekiel became the vessel, and death was no more.  What is the true meaning of Prophesy?

The throat chakra is where we find the power of words, of song, and of expression of all sorts.  It governs the condition of the physical body as well—mouth, tongue, lips, vocal cords, teeth, ears, and jaw.  The throat reveals our spoken love, our sounds of affection, our ability to hear the angels, and what lies within our hearts.  And yet, we cannot face our deepest wounds, which we push down into the burial chamber.  They are secreted away, far from us, out of our sights.  Yet our shadows can not be denied.  We repress that which we would judge as evil.  Yet all things are from God, so how can this be so?  “O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.”  ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭12:34‬ ‭KJVAAE‬‬.  What is the true meaning of Humanity?

Dear Reader, I offer you words of love.  I sing songs of praise for your divinity.  I open my mouth and reveal to you what lies within—the abundance of my heart.  I have lied, I have cursed, and I have created a spirit of darkness.  Yet I become restored, again and again.  My throat becomes a place of beauty, lined with lapis stones, and glittering like sapphires.  I am the aqua sign, born under the Aquarius sun.  The Mayan cosmology has received me as the Blue Cosmic Night.  My soul must express all of me—the darkness and the light.  Within the throat chakra, all things are integrated and become the transition point between the Green Heart and the Violet vortex of the ajna.  This is the true meaning of Word.

Would you like to hear Psalm 5?

With great love,

Robin

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Psalm 4 – My Heart and I

“Stand in awe, and sin not: commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still. Selah.” Psalm 4:4 KJVAAE

The inspiration for this piece came to me when the Sun was in Capricorn, and Venus was retrograde.  The energies of Neptune informed me, and my soul reflected back.

Image by Gerd Altmann of Germany on Pixabay

A while back,, I wrote a series of posts about the heart..  It was our summer, and the Lion’s Gate portal was opening.  Those seven messages can be found here:  https://robinpcurrie.com/category/series/seven-days-of-the-heart/

Now I am drawn, in this Psalm, to the directive of communion with the heart. I am compelled. I asked myself what it means to commune with the heart. And why in bed? Commune brought to mind other words, like communicate and converse. This indicates a shared experience, and an equality amongst those within the dialogue. Once again, I had many questions, so I went deep into prayer, and I stood ready to participate in an exchange that would require all of my senses, most especially my gifts of clairaudience, and clairsentience. I became fully present, and finally I could hear, as if for the first time.

“Come to bed, and lie with me”, said my heart.  “Be still.  I will tell you a story.  It’s a love story, about you and me.

“I have loved you from afar, for eons.  I have ached while you suffered, and I have seen you victorious.  I have watched and waited for you to notice me.  Perhaps you do not understand that I am your creation, designed by you for this human purpose.  I bring you gifts by the thousands, but you never seem to care.

“I have brought you great joy, and you experienced it.  Did you know that was me?  Remember how you felt filled, full, fulfilled.  But you did not acknowledge that I was there for you, with unending joy extended to you by my loving arms.  All joy is here for you, kept safe within my holy chambers.

“At times you believed that I was broken.  The grief that you experienced was as mysterious as joy.  Why did it come, and when will it end?  And mostly you asked what you should do. Be still, is my answer, and come to bed.

“You are divided, as the world you have created would indicate.  The metaphor is seen in the hypopolarizing.  I am electric, and waves of change flow through me.  At each moment, a shift occurs, and I continue to work.  I contract, suspend, hold for a fraction of a second.  The space is charged with expectation and tension, A human life hangs on the razor’s edge..  Now comes the powerful release, and with great swiftness the nectar of the body runs like wild rivers of honey.  Do you not experience this within every millisecond of your existence?

“You search, and do not find me.  I’m here, waiting.  I make a sound continuously.  The rhythm never ceases, and you have yet to recognize that I sound the code of your soul from within your human body.  All hearts call out to each other.  We know each other by the frequency.  Can you hear us?

“Feel the messages I send through the arrhythmias of your human existence.  The answers you seek are within.  Follow the sounds, follow the beating drum, and I will guide you.  This I promise.

“You must know me.  I am the narrow gate.  Pass through me and enter a world that is unimaginable, for it can be known only by going there.  Walk through my chambers and my halls to understand how much life is there.  Within, are many mansions.  In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. John 14:2 KJVAAE. Abide in me forever”.

Would you like to hear Psalm 5?

With great love,

Robin

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