May Ascension Energy ~ Exercising Trust
May Ascension Energy ~ Exercising Trust
By: Jayme Price
In this year of Following Your Heart, you have been preparing for the stillness of listening to the whisper of Love that can so easily be drowned out by the loudness of fear scrambling for footing. As Gabriel’s Horn announced your arrival into 2020, the challenge of change was revealed or reveled. Don’t expect perfection in the realm of conditions, for relativity unfolds the finest of feats. As your song ripples out into a universe of Love, the oceans of you renew into a teeming spring of blue.
What bubbles up from the crucible of Earth’s dirty gifts, as hidden within the movement is the stillness of Time. Don’t go out, stay within and learn to Trust the cycles of your divinity spiraling fourth again. The divine plan was always of man, inspired to act out the drama of push/pull/pulse/cull; finding the strength of vulnerability too dirty to digest. Judgment is just, a weapon of must, as individuals wither at the will of the crust.
Will you divest the securities of the chest, such a supple nest to drain or sustain. Valued objects, Who questions the intention of invisible gues(t)s, waiting wise as the tides show the dregs that abide. In the house of law foundations move and adjust, for what feeds life is universal in might, the human’s ruling by Time’s blind slight.
The nutrient’s nurturance revealing the importance of impotence, surrendering into Time’s natural flow of Life. The sacred fear is revealed in the tear, a heart’s vulnerability is strengthened to revere. As the dew drops and the maid mops, the simple pleasures known are magnified in stops as one catches a glimpse of imps in the waters of Life.
The mirror reflects the deepest truth, the puzzling plan inherits the roots.
Do you Trust yourself unconditionally into the unknown? Here it is at your feet, bowing and bending between master and slave, as the mirror cracks into clear lines of distortion, cutting the vision’s quest to define which time line is best.
To Exercise Trust you give your hand to the key promising freedom from the cell, but what do those walls tell? They are severe and stalwart, as they reveal the real thwart. Captured or conned, the origins are new fawns, who wouldn’t Trust their eyes to believe the palpable reality blocking the view of the eyes two see? Only the key of the three will give truth to thee, but it asks you to refine your cellular brine.
Do you listen to those that laugh at your lies or do you fascinate the millions to see through your eyes? Liars or leaders, only the followers beleaguered, for the rush of lust lingers as the fingers thrust into the sacred sod, sewing new lines to trod.
Soiled souls must learn to Trust their foals, as the gentle night stirred such dirty fright, freezing fight or flight for history’s delight. The mirror magnified the inferior, trying harder to see beyond the dark’s interior. The sky darkened as fear harkened, moving cycles into cyclones of repeating covenants for few, not you. The ark has left two confused for the empty boxes of computers mused your uprising, deluging waves of fears abused and used to program the feuds.
Vomit the vexed, as the confused are hexed into lucid dreams of honey and mustard hives. They boil to reveal how Trust has been repealed. Eyes or ayes, the agreement of the new covenant conceived, the foal foiled as sin and innocence toiled. Battle lines mark the eyes of Times, your agreements drown your thoughts in slime, confused as the water flows backwards from Time. The deluge sublime for the powerful kind, for what remains is the foundation of life, springing fourth amidst the quiet of knight.
Rewards from wardens of distorted rose gardens, give see’d to new suns, reaching for the light of freedom from earth hell. Each cell has secrets too sacred to tell, no one would even hear their odd yell. In the quiet of night, she whispers through tears of grief from her sister’s angry fright, vulnerability suppressed into strength’s deceptive plight. Will you give it or take it, reveal it, remake it?
The Hallowed Ground upon which you stand, stranded and branded, heretical grand.
Do you Trust the unknown power of a seedlings stalking tower, too earthen to show the future’s flower; the path to blooming after the darkest our. What falls from height and hubris into muddy debris, meets the root of the lotus’ protuberance too small to see. What dire gift of mire covers the heat-seeking missal of God’s fire? Do you smell the sweet fragrance birthed from flagrant waste, giving old food new taste, as the laws of nature give haste to reveal shadows faced.
Do you Trust the reflection of the mirror’s light? Do the lines of time reveal laughter or crime? Which truth to Trust as roses bleed the meek with crowns of thorns and bull horns. Dragons feed the weak with blue fire that warns of potential within when lines connect sin.
Do the just conditions create your cell’s partitions? As petitions circulate, opinions percolate a new dawn of dimensions with rules and conventions. The mind’s aye is illuminated or imprisoned as visceral strength becomes vulnerable to know.
The meek, so quiet, just; as the lotus grows.
Immersed and hidden in muck so fertile, the bloom a Piscean dream until the alarm springs forth the mass within. Cancer houses hate or love, protecting or pinching the deceptive dove. Do you Trust peace to win over war? From the Aeries view the doves must hide or be food, what the waters won’t give, the air provides, renewed.
Stirred through the dark waters of time, the depths have arisen, convicted and tried. The truth to be Trusted is the key in hand, for the chorus of Christmas gives grace to the plan. As the push pull moves there is stillness within, too deep to show waves to blind liberty’s gaze. It’s the eye of the storm that gives shape to the flow. Your nerves are arrested and free winds blow. Wishes are friends and actions are foe, the beings are doing the good work (from home) to know.
In the walls of your cells true freedom resides.
In the oddity of life, even love divides. From one to two to three to one. What is seen with the eyes one trusts and believes, until the expectation is too weak for a mind two conceive. What springs from the three, resurrection sets free, four there is always potential hidden in thee.
Sweet blessing you are, always were, always will; the courage of forgiving received in the till. You were always the rich, the royal, the rogue. Life’s blood runs deep through rock and soil, pulsed through desire laid bare, the water begins to boil. At the center is spinning a fire that provides, it warms, it burns, it transforms and renews, but it needs all elements to forge future hues.
What springs fourth in the fields and trees is Life’s promise of fruit just as sweet as your tooth. What you bite and tear lives deep in your mare, building bones that support through love or contrare [sic]. Unconditional life guides, even as each cell divides, for it is the nature of divine to multiply unique fruit sublime. You are that sweet, Life laid at your feet, bending a knee to your innate mastery.
It’s hidden within, swimming in a fertile engine of dualing foes releasing mere woes. Muscle builds as walls are torn down, through dance or trance new lines are drawn. The dragon and rose both reveal in your heart. Two forces separate through divided connection of divine obsession. The mirror can’t rip the face from this realm, but it can give notice to the force at the helm.
The power of creation is woven into the seed’s wisdom. To dig deep and reach high, these two paths so opposite does connection belie.
Do you Trust yourself to find the light, even as Earth’s soil asks you to go deeper from sight?
You are Love’s seed breathing Life deep into to the walls of your cells, until the day you bloom fourth into all is well, for that darkness held water that only Aquarians can quell.
Drink deep and be Mary, for the oceans of blue have always been within you; first unseen, then felt, then through. Birthed innocent into free will, won’t you arise?
There is no more precious gift to Life than your Trusted truth to tell. UCL. Gabriel’s Horn has resurfaced from you, infinite cell. 2020; from hindsight to foresight, All is well.
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