323: In All Forms, Seek Beauty

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He speaks:

Behold the beauty in everything.

In all things small, in all things wide, seek the comfort of spirit; wherever you pass, bless the space before you with kindness and hope; seek not to destroy what is set upon you, but instead gently release and give what is to the heavens.

Believe in your worth, as you outshine the darkest of nights, your soul a celestial beacon of well-spring; seek not to destroy what has been given; instead, pour out that which has been placed upon thee.

In all forms seek thee, beauty; for thine mystery rests below as much as beyond.

Place not thy refuge in the silence of naught, for naught is neither here nor there; instead seek the solitude of soul, where imagination exceeds imagination, where thought blurs and submerses self to embers of flame, the spirit of one uniting with the whole of all.

Seek not the dangers of the world inside thy self; seek only peace, and watch the flowers blossom from where withered leaves dried, the spring burst eternal carrying the message to the world.

Ease not into the simplicity of burden nor the temptress of fear; seize instead all that is glorified under His name.

For you shall see signs; you shall know signs; and you shall announce to the world His beauty, the beauty that is beneath you and radiates throughout: my word, your dream; my world, your house.

Place not this trust in the untrusted few; place this trust in the radiance of youthful twilight, where all about the sun drizzles moon beans of fanciful merriment; come dance with me sweet sister, sweet daughter, sweet beloved wife. For bridegroom awaits you under the shadowed oak; His hands outstretched in grace; His heart aflame in glory; for you are magnificent in your calling, a shadow keeper that cometh to my dwelling, and knocketh upon my door of eternal forgiveness.

She speaks:

Behold I am here, my harborer of mid-day sun, your shadowed wife of yesteryears; I am here, whispering your name to the wind, hand upon hand, heart upon heart, whispering through sun-kissed lips of your coming. Take me upon you, as one takes the amulet of power laced around the nape of goodness; I proclaim your coming and kiss thy feet; and I, as dandelion blossomed, shall spread my wings to the world, my lips upon yours, my heart clamped to the corner of your will; say nothing is barren, within the will of your glory.

He speaks:

Behold the beauty in everything.

samantha craft, Feb. 2013

Day 192: A Walk with Light and Shadow

The Light

You make me young again

Twelve or twenty, or someplace in between

I want to run and skip and sing, and be so free

You are everything to me, my sunrise and my sunset

The prettiest ones

The very best ones

You are the stars I count on

You are the clouds I dream upon

You are the ducks dipping, the ferris wheel spinning

You are the lights strung upon the summer tree

You are all that makes me smile

And more, so much more

I can’t begin to explain

It would take a lifetime or two

Just to count all the reasons I adore you

Your hair, your eyes

Your nose so cute

I want to nibble you whole and in completion

Bite through your sexiness

I want to run my fingers through you

Every part

And dance on you like some worn out disco floor

I want to tap and spin

And glide on knees

Feel your smoothness beneath me

And eat your very soul

The Shadow

Release me bloody panther of the night

The one I spear, who keeps rising

With claws to chest

Carving name into my flesh

I run and you follow

My scent, your prisoner

You are naught but heavy stones in my pocket

Backpack on weary shoulders

Silver spikes beneath my feet

A broken time piece

Your face a façade

You are unwelcomed fever

The torture of still birth

A labor of death

You are the stripe of the honey bee

The symbol of nectar’s sting

I will not be your dance floor

Your river or mountain

I will be nothing you move upon

You feed me not, whittler of bones

And nor shall I be your prey

I turn you mystic muse

To the muds of moors

And make the howling hound your bed song

Cry for me now

This light slipped through your fingers

So I might collect your tears

And spit them at your shadow

I am blood-dry to your enchantment

Fed upon the last time

To me you are the stinging nettle of pain

The poison oak of itch

The jelly fish of sting

In leaving I shall paint the walls of you

With my echoed screams

So you may sit now

And hear the wing-clipped raven

Crying in the attic’s mind

It is your turn

Of empty ghost

Your turn to grasp

And find nothing but empty cloud of drought

I will be not your star

I will be not your sun

Instead I shall step dark upon your grave

And kick dirt at your memory

My laughter, your sorrow

My victory, your loss

My hope, your awakening

To the world without me


By Sam Craft, July 2012


The Walk

The following are photos from the bird sanctuary. There is a mile long platform that stretches across the wetlands and leads to the salt-water sound. There are hundreds of birds flying everywhere and adjacent nature trails.