Water

My body welcomes me home and carefully readies me for another night amongst the stars. She prepares me for my return; places single, white blossoms across the forehead of my Heart, above my crown. Protecting me and reminding me that I am eternally supported. That I am not only loved but that I am Love; that Love is all that I Am. She gently takes my hand and places it in my own. Where I am going, I must carry myself, she says. Where we are headed, the path is clear but still unknown. Its clarity lies in its clairvoyance; its whisper of eternity; its tender promise of eternity rooted in intimate trust; its vast picture of eternity planted inside of my mind, that I already knew what the pathway to infinity looks like, mapped out and ready for me to take my place as I settle in to a seat of surrender, a corner of curiosity, to turn on the tap and let the water flow effortlessly. To watch the hand of the Universe pull me in and install me with knowledge past, ancient wisdom and free me of fleeting temperance. To show me a new door, to a Now which looks nothing like the one I see before me, yet which feels strangely familiar in its welcoming acceptance. For me, as I am. For all that is, as it is. Here, I not only wait, but I choose. I choose my guidance as another me chooses the door in-front, behind, in the far left corner. I choose my experience and it enlightens my view. Shows me possibility and I lean farther into capability. When my inner child comes to play with me, I will tell her that she is safe. I will assure her inconsolable heart that she is deserving of receiving all that she gives. When she steps cautiously into my dreams, I will invite her lovingly to make her own choices. I will tell her that I could see her trepidation. For I, too, was peeking from behind the curtain to watch her imagination bloom. And, as in her wonder-filled eyes, I could see it in my own. I could feel the sparkle that I saw light up her path; could smell the petals she laid before her as stepping-stones into her truth, closer to me. Could sense the anguish which she asked with lightness, a playfulness unique to who she is, yet one that hides a plethora of angst. But she is the one who can turn fear into curiosity; is the one who can give love when she feels closed in. She is the silhouette who can come out of her own shadow when she creates from her Spark, when she steps in to her own, shapeshifting mould, when she hugs her bears tightly because it brings her closer with herself.

I love her, so deeply.

I see her now, within me.

Come forth, sweet one. I promise to always hold your hand while you show me the way.