Dear Hearts,
One of the most meaningful things I do each week is this. I come to the computer and I write to you. There is a little ritual, an asking of my heart what to share, how much, in a story? In a poem? I begin to consider this on Monday, always wanting to get the Word to you, the connection and the movement in mind toward Thursday’s circle, hoping these words will motivate our collective power to Vision. I also think about joining and how I relish the love, the hugs, your sharing and patient listening. Each meeting is a little mountain I climb, reaching a high before I leave that envelops me in Spirit. Over the years this mountain climbing has developed miracle muscles. The Presence through the practice of our meeting is palpable to me. More than that, as I listen, I hear God speaking through my mouth. It is not my personal God. It is Our God Consciousness extending, expressing, becoming God Law, Principle, Action among us, with us, as us, even when I coo and blush at the feeling that Jesse (Jesus) is just a kiss away. It is a universal kiss I receive.
I am telling you this now, because it is 10:45 on Wednesday evening, just hours before we gather, and I have not found time to write. I lambast myself for having too many doings and not enough giving of the Words that Live within me. But I have not been able to help it. It feels as if all the parts of my life are sitting on different branches of a great old tree, ripe as the Anjou dripping in my yard, but not one is in my reach!
This then is Our sharing, The Voice for God through my little sparrows chirpings for this week:
Through Union I know there is no lack of time, or money, or love. It is all my resistance.
I know an Omnipresent Word has left the lips of Source and become, is becoming the fullness of creation…right now through my little awareness.
My sincere desire for Him, and for Truth, in this moment brings Him
She who wishes to be the living, breathing poem of God in the world is certainly fulfilled. Her dreams come true.
I go to bed with my hand in his hand, my heart a bit swollen from the unspoken elixir that I have held too long.
Spirit is putting all the Words in a cup. It is overflowing, I will sleep without thirst tonight, tasting the sweetness of Real Love.
His Words are Life. I will Rise to Live again.
And tomorrow, perhaps tomorrow, we will talk. We will speak of the wonder of His Words within us and mourn the poems that never get said.
Good night, dear Hearts,