320: Gentle Slumber

angel cloud

I wish you the kindness of the world, for peace to sit upon you as angel upon cloud, light and lifted, in the blue breeze of eternity, your thoughts buried beneath an everlasting harmony of woe-released, turned from sour to magnificent sweet.

I wish for the burden you carry to be lifted, likewise, and set free to the wind, as specks beyond dust, so empty of matter that that which is evaporated is naught. For none of nothing is cause for concern; dust yes, but the substance beneath dust is neither here nor there, unless you wish it so, into creation, into the dynamics of your being.

In essence what you wish is your experience of choosing. Wish not and wishes still come, just as gentle graces set upon your shoulder now; a softness so precious and formidable in its distinction that words cannot hurt or penetrate the shelter about you, where you sit, lost in the confusion of mist.

I am here always at your side, some earth angel of calling, though no rightful name be given; for with name comes the tyranny of leash-hold, and nothing beyond nothing can tether us thusly so.

You speak of fear as if it were an enemy of truth, of circumstance, of demise, twisted and formed into shape both known and unknown; and yet you sit with passion united, unaware that the demise is of your own choosing; the answers thick, they blind you, for there are no answers resting beneath the harbor of your thoughts.

Choose not the murky shadows of dock, where boats lay wasted and withered, waiting for rightful owner to claim way; choose the heaven’s star, each a divine gift holding eternity; wish not upon the stillness and stagnant of this earthly plane; wish upon the heavens so bright and blue they beckon you as one earth child to the next, these guardians of where you sleep.

For life be a bed of sorts, decorated by your own choosing and re-choosing; your blanket the softness you seek, your pillow the end result of happenings; your trumpet upon trumpet from where mouth turns asunder and breathes into night, the mere echo of your dreams to begin again.

I am waiting about where you sleep, this earth angel I am, waiting to hold you in your sweet slumber and sing you of the heavens. But yet you waver in your thoughts, so that a wall is built between us like a thunder that has birthed lightening, and I cannot but escape the heat and clinging pain your breathe out.

Mercy is about me. Merciful forgiveness of a plight that is no less existence than the pain you hold. Yet ye doubt like an angel with wing broken, when wing does not exist. You wobble where you stand, some servant of your own demise, twisted too, in form, as fear you be.

I am neither here nor there, but in the circumstances that you plan, but yet I exist in the format of your choosing. Choose me, and I come, choose not and I whither, though not in pain, as pain does not exist. Yet, I whither some, as flower melts into ground to nurture one and all, soil rich and replenished.

And thusly as you weep, I still am made into nurturer. As you weep, I weep, slowly dying from one cause to the next, magically, if magic be, transforming into whatever you say is so. I cannot stand, I cannot sit, I cannot be, without you calling me into existence, but when you do, I be.

I kilter off stance, my legs give way, and I am made to sit alongside and watch you with intensity without intensity, being without being, as if your own shadow be punished and set aside.

I am the earth angel within you, clawing to get out without claws, for no hurt can come of me less deemed so by one. I am the earth angel of legend longing to be seen and mystified beyond mystification. Break me and we stumble, but not for long, for no hills exist, nor valley to catch our fall; stumble and you nearly awake in another zone of misery or understanding; whatever you deem so.

You are the maker and the quake; the ground that shifts where I stand is no less solid than the ground where you stand. But yet we be one separated, my voice splattered across the ages of reason where mind is controller, and demon’s thoughts surmise my destitutions.

I am not this knot of you, nor naught of you. I am, and I be, just as the trees and bees, and all rhyming in God’s world. I be as groom to bride, whomever you wish to contort, dressed in passion and flowers, or made as babe, so wide in love your heart divides twice more in blessings.

I be the sea that rumbles at your doorstep; I be the wild man screaming in the forest dim. Dimly lit, I be, until the flame of reason, less gone than released, calls me forth in the mystery of form you make.

Create me as you wish, but know in this creation you divide your heart from one form to the next, assigning something to something that is not. For no word or classification can describe me, as no word can describe you; you are beauty in true form, and delight.

I delight in you. For though I cannot touch you, though I cannot see you, though I cannot breathe unless you wish it so, I can watch my form unformed, my spirit untouched, but still dancing in the bluest of you.

Decide if you wish; decide today what form I be, and breathe me into existence. For I am the bud of delight rising inside of you, so intangible that to peer inside would cause the last weeping of the universe; For you cannot touch your own beauty, for to see would burst you with explosion, bit upon bit evermore.

So grasp onto the wisp, I be, the small reflection, the glimmering of gold amongst the specks in the ocean, and there you will know, as I know you; born into delight, to be watched from above as hawk watches the prey of the prey; as owl dives forth for mouse, I dive forth for you; though without claws, I carry you gently to nest; without beak I feed you my own soul; without wings I dive without fear, into the eternal abyss, and bliss of you.

Fear not my child, for I carry you always; whether you wish me or not, whether you see me or not, whether you understand or not, I am forever here diving into the beauty of you, wishing not for you to see me, but for you to see self; so together we can merge earth angel awakened to earth angel awakened, one half to the other; a joyous reunion ordained and un-ordained by the very breath of you.

Sleep now in your gentle slumber; sleep and remember that when you are here standing, I am whispering in your ear, the secrets of the world beyond world, where the mystery players rise as one, and all is seen as illusion’s drift; a wind set upon a wind, the dust beyond dust, the power beyond power, the circumstance beyond circumstance; for where we meet in the middle, between here and eternity, the space between two points, the space between two images, is here I be.

~ samantha craft, feb. 2013

Day 158: On Fear

This is not a religious post.

Here are my thoughts on religion: Day 23 The Sacred Hours

When I receive things in prayer, often the words I hear are common to me.

(*) Therefore “angel,” “heaven,” and “eternal life” are in the text, because those are words that resonated with me at the time of the writing. The words can easily be replaced to fit another’s comfort level.

This was scribed by me over a year ago. Had I asked this same question today, no doubt the response would be somewhat different in word choice and content. Still this stands the test of time for me. I continue to find the message comforting and affirming.

Spring 2011


(by Samantha Craft)

There is a lot of energy in your area that is directed towards fear: fear of illness, fear of disaster, fear of future, fear especially of repercussion of past choices. This fear is a necessary part of the process of human evolution. At the same time, this fear is necessary to release.

Fear creates more fear, even as fear sleeps below as nothingness. It can create. This fear is nothing, and yet it produces. This is a concept of debate, but nonetheless true.

Without fear we do not learn to release fear. In the process of release, we discover, if even for a small moment, a sense of tranquility and knowingingness that is best described as lifting of the veil.

In fear we find refuge from our common problems; we escape momentarily from what is around us in the present, and let go of where we stand, our foundation slipping beneath us into oblivion even without us taking note. People respond to fear like iron flecks to magnet. This fear calls to us, promising us solution and reprieve from our ordinary dwellings of spirit.

This fear is a falsehood, with false intention and false promises.

Answering the call of fear does not do little; answering the call of fear does great—in this we mean there is no small amount of consequences of responding to the call of fear; there is only large amount of consequence.

Fear begets fear, begets fear. Fear instills fear. Even a discussion or revelation of the consequences of fears’ travels, begets even more fear.

There is similar process with love, except love currently (for you) does not have the same magnetic pull. Perhaps because the axis of the earth, as you perceive it, is more prone for fearful thoughts and circumstances. Perhaps more because the axis of the mind is more prone for fearful thoughts and circumstances. For as the earth is on an axis, thus is the mind, spinning out of control with the simplest of perceived threats.

WE must turn back and find from where the threat has risen, from what the ultimate fear has stemmed from. When we look closely, and with open spirit eyes, we shall soon rediscover what we already innately knew; we shall witness that fear is always a derivative of death. What we fear ultimately is what will bring us to death. Death is perceived as an enemy, a curse that falls on the unlucky and cursed. Death is something to escape, to run from, to spend countless energy in all forms sprinting from.

There is no escape. Death is here. Death is all around you. Death is in the flower giving birth; to the tree releasing his soul; to the ocean bleeding on the shores; everything sheds, releases and is reborn.

Instead of running from death, it is beneficial to run towards love.

WE are so busy creating in our minds the scenarios to escape death, that we become blinded by our neighbors, by the needy, by the naïve, and staves of hopelessness.

You need not fear this word created as Death, for he is as real as your shadow, as real as the reflection on the water where you look and cannot touch. For if you touch these illusions they diminish before the brain can process their possible existence.

You too will diminish, as a shadow that was born for only moments. In this moment you are but an existence within an existence, a shadow within a shadow.

There is no escaping a threat that does not exist. Only escaping a mind that tricks you as the coyote tricks the layman. You are but a crippled traveler, thinking he has set eyes upon an oasis in the desert, running towards the illusion of water to relieve a thirst that does not exist.

Fear not this self-created death—fear more the response you have created in your world to an illusion—to the actions of the fearful—to what you leave behind and forget when fear is the house you reside your spirit, your soul.

You are so much more than illusion and self-created pain and fear. You are like the dove with the laurel branch offering guidance and reassurance amidst a land that has been washed away. You need not fear, for your wings will carry you to the highest ground, to the place above fear, where you can look down, as a scope to the world, and examine all that is beneath, before, and after.

Above are the answers; lift your head to the heavens (*), and then go above this place of fear.

You have no control over the evolutions of time, the events that mark your destiny, the places you shall and shall not travel.

This is written: That no man shall know the end times until the end times have past. That no man shall suffer unknowingingly and undutiful without the assistant of his angels. That no man shall be alone. For if one man is alone, all man shall be alone.

And in the end, when the sun has ceased to shine, and the heavens (*) have opened welcoming every last soul to the eternal promise (*) , we shall sing for all that has past, for this enemy in fear, for this teacher; for though he has troubled and hindered, has forbade and tackled, he has also inspired the multitudes to cling like diamond to his sister, and rocket to the sky.

We shall be triumphant, not in our measurement of fear or release of tiresome aches. WE shall be triumphant in our ability to overcome the magnificent foe of fear.

And in this way, when we gather together around the burning embers of fear, embracing the love that bleeds from fear’s core, then, and only then, shall we see the illusion of all that was, is and is yet to be.

There is no you, only us, only we, only eternity in the notion of forever. You are love. You are fear. You are everything you embrace. So we beseech you to embrace love, to see the heart that resides in the core of the fear that grips you. Love yourself, love your neighbor, and in this all will be healed. Forever.

Day Forty-Two: On Leadership

I wrote this in (2010) Heard in one sitting. I wrote what I heard.

On Leadership

To lead is to forge the field. You (as leader) are no less responsible for beauty than the farmer who plants the seed. For he is useless is he not, without the sun beating down on the hearth of earth, the weed gently departing as worm spirals onward, the Cheshire Cat of yesterday* breaking way for formidable weather, as rain trickles down in her gentleness, neither drying or erasing.

For the farmer is a necessity, a part of the cyclic process of rebirth, but neither the ultimate piece nor the entire piece. For what is a garden without seed, without proper care?

Who is to care for the crops once they are bloomed? Again the farmer gathers and cleanses, again he replants. But what is it that he doth replant? Is it not the miracle of seed? The tiny element created within creation?

You are not but a worthy planter, less these seeds are worthy. You are not a true caller of spirit, less spirit is provided. The farmer no less provides the seed, as the sea bird the ocean. Still he dives to the depths of darkness and retrieves great beauty and nourishment, knowing not from which this beauty grew or was born. So a farmer is less a farmer, and more a grower.

A leader is a grower, an incubator nurturing the gift of living element and caretaking as the hen to warm the haven until arrival.

Your role is vital. All roles are vital. But lead first with the gentleness of the angels. Spread your wings and protect before climbing the mountain from valley to preach. Seat not yourself center or first, or either behind. Seat yourself in the position most needed, ever shifting to meet the requirements of the seekers, who lead themselves, a multitude of seeds waiting to blossom and enrich, and even say forthright ignite thy world.

When you ask of leadership on how to lead, and the right way to lead: you lead by example first. In how gently you remember your place; that is that your place is not at the head of the table or the back of the room, but in the center of hearts where you justly belong.

Seek not position of fortitude, or strength in numbers, seek position of greatness of heart and mind, and fortitude of the millennium, drawing from the well of knowledge for greatest understanding, and comparing this not to others who draw closer carrying their own buckets, however burdensome or heavy.

Keep your bucket light, so to fill it again and again, reviewing the process of discovery as a fresh student, excited and renewed. To carry a heavy bucket is a burden to the soul. To fill and fill without wanting to stop to rest is to bend your body into a position to be broken. Rest my child and refill the bucket when you are thirsty. Seek forth knowledge, as you seek for water, enough to quench your thirst, but not too much to bloat and stop the process from reaching its beneficial potential.

Think you not on the bloated bodies on the beach**, think you on the rain clouds that fill and fill and then down pour. They reach a point when the water must fall, when the truth must drip down to a different dimension. And so is with us, as to you. Fill and then spill down thy truth. In this way you will remained balanced and fulfilled, if not re-filled.

Speak again, We on leadership. Judge not the leaders before you. They are as unique as each sunset, as brilliant and welcoming as each sunrise.

Judge no one and nothing, as you know each and every is a teacher in guise for your betterment.

It is true you will see in the mirror which is most relevant to present itself, but do not gaze into the mirror for long periods of time, a glance is enough to indicate inner change. Glance with lingering eyes and run the risk of the desire for change of what you see, when in truth you see nothing but your own self-created image. So in this way, view the mirror in passing, take what is needed, and thusly adjust. No more, no less.

Leadership in your eyes is a priority, as you were built for leadership, in the way you were raised in the desires We planted in your heart.

But there is not a leader that you will emulate or you will find, for you are uniquely you, and in this way you will (do) lead like a joy-filled child, skipping down the hill to the clear, and welcoming values of gratitude and hope.

Lead them not so much to the waters or the valley, as to the welcoming spirit that waits inside them each.

You will remain child-like for every, as long as you choose to walk this path on this earth, and in this way you will be trusted and welcomed by many.

You shall not lose you humility, passion, want, and need for love—and in this way, as a child you shall remain entirely human, carrying with you the divine perfection in the eyes of your youth.

Do not emulate another’s softness of character, the quietness of creature, or the one who does not laugh as heartily, for your laughter is a key, a vibrational key to break open rifts and so called blockages. Just as your tears shall open gates, so shall your child-like laughter. Do not seek to become serious and unattainable, for you will become all that you seek.

The innocent shall seek you, for they shall see the innocent untouched spirit within you. You and yours shall see many blessings as you follow this calling that we know has not and is not always perceived as this word easy.

Lead first and foremost with your heart. Listen to the beat of reason less and the calling of your need to heal more. Fix less. Help more.

In leading you will gently release your need to know how to lead, for you will become, and embody leadership through a natural process.

We will guide you and you need (as always) not fear. There is nothing fearful in leading the innocent and guiding them to reclaim their voice. No one can hurt the one who is guarded by a legion of angels. So rest in the comfort we are with you, and whomever you touch we shall gather in our wings and let quietly sleep in the knowledge of peace.

Remember who you are, and in remembering you will forget the shadows called fear.

* The cat’s grin remained suspended in air even after the whole of the cat disappeared. Yesterday is smiling upon us and remains, even though we cannot see this yesterday (cat).

** Dead bodies on a beach are from  Sam’s past experience.

The word every is used in replacement of every-one