
The Angels remind us that even the most skilled among us miss the mark sometimes, misreading the energy, leading too much with ego, missing an opportunity to be compassionate. Yet we always have the opportunity to be kind with our mistakes.
Awaken. Heal. Inspire.
The Angels remind us that even the most skilled among us miss the mark sometimes, misreading the energy, leading too much with ego, missing an opportunity to be compassionate. Yet we always have the opportunity to be kind with our mistakes.
In stillness,
Truth rises to the top,
And when it does
Ego aims to knock it down,
Frightened of its own inner shadow,
Not willing to share
Who it perceives itself to be
But you know,
Truth won’t let you forget
Ego is not the captain of your ship
Not unless you allow it,
Not unless you suppress
The truth that is you
©SpiritLed 2018
Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash
Riding on that plane
Between “then” and “now”,
The mind plays tricks,
The heart struggles to keep rhythm
Between humility and ego state,
Where mind feels in charge
And soul takes a back seat
And in this state is the danger of stagnancy,
Where growth slows
And longing gives way to assumed mastery,
And in this state
The end is near,
The soul must fight for its rightful place
As keeper of the wisdom,
The one who weaves love
And keeps the soul-light bright
©SpiritLed 2018
The Angels remind us that when we cease to learn and explore, we come to live in a constant ego state, deluded by our assumption of mastery. Only through openness and curiosity do we continue to transcend, expand, and grow.
The wicked finality of life is almost more beautiful
than birth, the grace and forcefulness with which the body
unbinds from the constraints of humanity each
day, slowing more and more, the measured
breaking down of flesh and ego, a thinning of the
veil that shrouds the Spirit from its home,
until one day you see it in their eyes,
you know they have seen Home
and they are ready
and you are ready
to let go as they have
Oh, the cruel and terrible dichotomy of grief, to hold your
beloved, to never want to let loose your
connection, yet to look death in the face and know surrender
is the only promise for true salvation and peace for both.
Like walking outside on a brisk fall day,
naked as trees, wearing only the cloak of nature’s
chill, allow tears to flow, in colorful waves as leaves
fall, purposefully and with finality, and hope,
rotting on the ground through the
dormancy of winter, only to regenerate new
life when the sun once again warms the skin.
Your liberation, it may not come until years later,
when you can finally take comfort in the distance
between suffering and release, when you can
set up your altar and place your heart there to be
cleansed and unburdened, light the candle, assemble the
stones and blessings in the order that sets things right for your
spirit to grieve, and then leave it there exposed, to be
encased in love and peace until it is, eventually, your
time to also begin the journey Home.
Poem 2 in the series…
It’s taken so long to get words on paper
The words come out
But they’re jumbled, messy
Thoughts form in my heart but get stuck in my mind
Swirling around, confusing and irritating my soul
Writing is my refuge, my soul’s escape
But my muse is fickle and dependent on an unhurried, uncluttered mind
So much life to live in only short spurts of time
The bending of time doesn’t happen so frequently
When I don’t give life over to Spirit.
I’ve tried to take control, to let earthly concerns dictate my heavenly path.
Control is the enemy of the soul;
It calls forth the ego, which reminds me where I’ve gone wrong,
Numbing my excitement for life