Nestled in the womb of creation,
perils face the existence of human civilisation;
birthing much chaos and delirium,
unknowingly, we settle in,
unaware of what our future both promises
and what it may bring,
ever-open hands reach for warmth
outside our hollows,
to worldly next-of-kin.
Hope bears feathers, perched in soul,
humming a frequency beyond words;
the eternal cacophony gifting gold from the unknowns,
upon this hope we glide,
and then, as though, now sliding into
pirouettes with symphonic style,
the treasure bears more than we believed
able to be delivered,
let us adore these with calming eyes,
ecstatic hands, while feathers drift, softly land,
vivid types of wisdom only known to
enlightened woman and man.
The imprinted consciousness
upon the soothed clean conscience
of our astral journeying pillows
embodies the archaic knowledge
of the ancients whose remedies
and generational lineage lays
patiently in hibernation for the
pivotal metamorphosis of the spiritual development
of man amongst turmoil of the cyclical yugas.
In chrysalis, we lay,
pods enclosed with passion, with verve,
growing, minutely, each passing day,
fragments becoming whole,
engorging ourselves, we know that when
we enlarge our intentions, and mend and heave hearts,
there is no matter in internalising
this primordial knowledge
other than understanding we are coming to a close,
and still the beginnings, unknown,
our subconscious thread speaks of moments,
instances, which enlighten even if we do not fully attend,
but it is with innate knowing,
with peace and passion,
that hopefulness and truth breathe as a whole.
Copyright © 2021 Dios Raw and Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
– By Amber (Dios-Raw) and Lauren (Lauren M. Hancock)
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