A trifecta of sounds
An ancient ocean
I don’t know who to speak to anymore, but to a supposed internal being, much more advanced, or so I hope.
I long for days gone by and for lemon trees in my backyard—trees I never had while growing.
I feel much too much, but there is a beauty in the suffering, a plain, openness that is inviting.
I speak to fill the spaces in my mind, gaps which weathered time and seashells.
Hope frantically obeys, beckons at your call, inches forward on a fast-moving planet with glaciers and galaxies to call home.
Home…a funny concept.
We are all home here, in this infinite cloth into which we are woven, threads like stories and eras and creatures.
To blend in is a must, at first, at least.
I possess no hidden talents, yet many that they speak of.
My forehead tingles ever so casually, a signal that I have tuned in at last.
They have been waiting for me, and I, them.
I pause, ever so delicately, avoiding damage to the transmission.
I am loved, as are you, and we are all sharing the same story.
Sometimes, moments of clarity knock me off my feet, and at other times I am drowning, but I know how to swim.
I have been here before, as have you.
It’s so mysterious, and so big, and so…
the key words of this lesson, this module.
I long for the space station I may have once belonged to.
There were more plants back then.
A messenger goes and snatches away the last missing truth.
It is found in a peach pit, juicy and glistening.
The secret was inside of us all along.
The answers and the questions, too.
The balance was all there to begin with.
The truths, or truth, as we are not taught.
Two trillion years later, a blink of an eye, if you can imagine it, you are sitting in your aqua-garden and floating water letters to the staff at sea—the galactic sea, that is.
Suspended above asteroids and seaweed, you cling to what you have now lost many eons ago: your humanity.
You have evolved into something greater, but what you can recall of the collective human consciousness is so stunningly beautiful, that it temporarily blinds your inner eye.
Tears stream down your mental body.
It is so great to be here again, connected to the past self who wrote you a letter.
An oasis awaits you.