This state is no accident. It’s a kiss from existence.
Simplistic and synchronistic. Will you, will I, will we receive it?
I open my heart and take a look,
only to find my new favorite book, and it’s being rewritten daily.
In the garden behind these green eyes,
there lies a million little Me’s and I’s.
Each growing and feeding,
seeding and blooming,
hybernating.
Some of these chemical mixtures become a shadow, a phantom
of the past whispering inconveniently, and meddling with my ability to experience purely.
Triggers and the chemicals they release to manipulate and guide me silently.
These codes are no longer of service, they are now a menace.
I have no need for the food they offer me.
A once helpful mental virus whose only future use is to be unlearned.
Burn them and let them go.
Spread their ashes to help the others grow.
Leave room for seeds I wish to sow.
They are nothing but the echoes of house guests from my past, see?
A million states of being still trying to see life through me.
Each one looped to rapid-fire through my body,
mixing into something similar to cola and mentos.
Each is trying and failing to aid me in my pursuit to defy gravity.
At this moment, I’m struggling when my only duty is to be still and get quiet.
The equation is still quietly converting.
Float to the surface, rise to your purpose,
and then remain above,
with love,
Your Internal Alchemical Family.
Well, that’s great to hear and fun to say,
But I could use some assistance today,
a little guidance, maybe?
I’m beginning to realize there’s a reason
I’m only an apprentice in this science.
Where do I begin? How do I fit in? How do I live?
How do I create when I feel tattered?
How do I transmute the traumas tugging and tearing at my seams?
Does any of that even matter? Will I crumble and shatter on the brink of my dreams?
Far be it from me, but I mean, come on, please?
I’m asking, is this a hero being born or the story of a hatter manifesting?
Look at all these deficiencies coursing through me.
What can I add to repel them and magnetize brighter states of being?
I’ve had enough of these. At the very least, I won’t feed or broadcast them.
So to any thoughts begging to relieve me of my favorite cocktails; joy, love, and peace.
Anything to keep us from manifesting the dream we’ve been weaving?
Fear, pain, sorrow, expectations,
anything jiving in well with these, is now deceased.
Each invited to flow weightlessly from my being.
I no longer desire to consume their mental and emotional concrete.
I desire life-giving ingredients that lead to a higher state of being.
Recompose my chemistry, harmonize me to vibrations of beauty and wisdom.
Magnetize me to a lighter way of drifting, living, make me fly.
Me, myself, and I. My, oh my.
How do we uncover our purpose?
How do we find it more gracefully?
We died to live and tell it all.
We rise within for the final call.
Now that we’ve tasted the other side,
How will we abide in the contrived?
Me, Myself, and I.
Why would we hide feeling fully alive?
Lifetime, and again, the places we’ve been.
The tales begin unraveling, time-traveling. I am enamored.
Show me everything, creative transfusion.
Teach me I’m hungry and confused from the wait.
Elate me, would you please unfold a never-told story before me?
I step into this headspace looking for my new place.
I am expecting anything, ethereal surprises.
Manifest beautifully. I’m listening.
Let it enter into the faceted diamond and be.
The light pouring through my current existence.
A river of blue mist spinning and gliding.
I could get used to this.
I feel so alive as it swirls and engulfs me.
I feel fully enticed in the moments suspended before,
To show me I am somewhere between high risks and destiny.
Just me and eternity walking through the garden it’s planted inside me
I bask in its glow, and my roots grow deep.
I tap into pure, uncontrolled gold. I am made bold.
I release the dross into the grass beneath my feet.
Rest me sweet between the rose beds outlined in garlands of lilies,
breathing out for the trees.
Just being, no talking needed our laughter is endless.
We are in each other’s heads, speaking freely, and joking.
I crawl into the lap of the universe. It’s here I lay my head.
It’s here I bring the memories of lovely things,
and beings that have left.
Bring them to life in new ways to dance with me.
Plant them alongside the lilacs and daisies.
Raise me one final time this century.
I call on the universe to establish a play date.
Come and recreate with me today and every day.
Let’s fully engage, love and war we will wage.
Bring your green thumb to the table,
please see to these cultivational needs.
Concoct and transmute me.
I am a rose let it be. I let the thorns bleed from me.
I am the pearl. I shed the shell and grip the grain within firmly.
Anything covering me melts away into the sands of where we’ve been.
I am the crystal hidden in the cliff. I let my external limitations crumble away.
I am the alchemists’ apprentice brewing this existence.
The co-tender in a cocktail bar with no limits.
Weigh the ingredients and watch as they mix into the pot of pre-destiny.
They mix and combust, comply and prevail.
Until muddled and fixed the product pours and spreads.
Reactions in waves wash over strings, bonds, and chains that are clashing.
Some attach, cling, and vibrate their way into anything paying attention to them.
All the while the Master is laughing and the contenders are gasping for air,
as chemical traces begin to manifest through familiar faces.
All who conform to these universal states of being,
grow dormant as a hive is born.
Each member subservient to the chemical combination
that’s overtaken their unique composition.
What a tragedy, what a crime against humanity.
That even one should go missing for the sake of these twisted chemical states remaining.
I submitted to the mastermind, the divine. IT’s the resident I choose to reside within.
Together, forever concocting mentalities beyond my wildest dreams.
Right now, at this moment. I’m gardening.
I’m learning to be present and me through all things.
I am witnessing fruit in my internal pages.
The produce is bursting at the seams.
I’m ready for my wings.