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 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