Piercing Through The Lineages Of The Garden 1b

Female alto voice, violins, harp, techno, pulsing beats, layered vocals, flute, oboe

Piercing Through The Lineages Of The Garden. Planted are the seeds of Hope, in rows of Sound. The Garden Plan is already lined up beyond what you think, what you can imagine, it is of its own nature and it has its own plans to unfold. The Mycelial Network has already laid out how and why, and where and when all takes place, and we are the stewards of the Listening Tongue. The Mother speaks through and into the Garden. Knowing the how and why is the great piece of the stitching of the Garden, as she begins her slow and steady growth up out of winter’s embrace. We are so grateful for her deep knowledge, and allow her her time to stretch and unfold. The Crow is early, along with the catbird and chickadee, each adding their pitch of sound into the making of the Nu. The Garden reaching into the renewal, opens up bit by bit, and we time ourselves with her humming. We begin to sew the seeds when it is time, and as May leaves the nest for June, the Garden opens to change, and we accept the patterns with its seeds of bloom. Counting the measure before its time, unrhythms the energetic pattern of nature, and the natural turns its path under. The Mother has the stitch timed to perfection and the Ease is the signal of relief. Bird, feather, and nest are all calling at this time and the Ease is waiting in the wings. Listen for the small still sound of change as it becomes so tiny, that even a Bee can feel its swaddle. There is no hurry, there is no deadline to get it done, the Garden has its own rhythm, its own language, its own way of Being. As the sun arcs its path, changing minutely each day, we begin to gather to us the necessary language to hear timing. The Garden Lineage is ancient, its power is beyond words, beyond number, and beyond reach. Begin your descent into the shape and fiber, the knot and vine, the edge and curve of its Sound. Listen to more than outline and shape, more than frame and figure, beneath all of it is a Seed that grows the Garden you have never seen before. Each year the stamp is quiet, gentle, flowing. Our timing is exact, our vision from the Mother, and the ripening has yet to begin. The early is early, the precise is precise, and the open is opening ancient longing of Space. Place yourself inside the Space of unplanned and you will be inside the Garden Plan, place yourself inside the Space of under, and you will be above the difficult, place yourself inside the heat of cold, and you will be beside the next. What wanders is the tendril still in the seed, what finds is the seed still in the hand, what thirsts is still the word upon the Tongue, and the Mother has the say. As the excitement builds we are aligned with the season and we are sewn to the root. Breaking through the soil of winter’s rest, the fibers begin their journey, weaving us forward, the light building its strength of angle, so that the reach it makes conveys the path of bloom. The radial strength is proportionate to the ellipse and the angle is opened at the exact depth of penetration. Magic is no longer fore-stalled and the energy can now move forward with Ease. Witness the Seed and the Garden grows, allow the growth to occur with Ease, and your Ease will follow. The path of the Garden is more than its dirt, more than the soil beneath you. It is under your feet so that you can feel above it.
Position is more than equation, it is longing and the deep dark that the roots grow in, grow from, and come out of.
The Witnessing of the Magic allows more than you can figure, more than you can know, more than you can understand. Yet the under stands you, as you place your foot with trust. Keeping the sound true, the Witnessing affords the Space time, and Time space, so that the Seed has a chance to form its Magical Wand into a vine, a wooded Space, a grove that yields itself into Fey. From Fey the Garden grows, comes into Being, becomes itself Whole and Complete, so that you are nourished in Body, Mind, and Spirit. You are fed, not only by its bounty, but by all the time spent inside the Garden, during the time of the Seed, Sprout, and Leaf. We are gathering together all the Magic we can contain, and allowing it to spill out, into the hand willing to receive its gift of Light. The sun arcs its way across us, yet we do not feel crossed out, but rather marked by its passage. We thread the Eye of the Needle with our Seedial Presence, and through our Existial Mode we transfer the energy throughout the Mycelial Network, so that the Ease is Witnessed, the tension is relieved, and the White that colors our words comes into fruition. We cellularize the process so that the Papered Awareness is registered within the pages of compassionate consciousness, and Love can be Threaded through the sewn fibers of Red. Marking the making with enthusiasm is the key, your own compassionate enthusiasm holds the greatest leverage against contractive limitations. Let the seed of your own great enthusiasm open the Spring Door wide for you.

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Piercing Through The Lineages Of The Garden. Planted are the seeds of Hope, in rows of Sound. The Garden Plan is already lined up beyond what you think, what you can imagine, it is of its own nature and it has its own plans to unfold. The Mycelial Network has already laid out how and why, and where and when all takes place, and we are the stewards of the Listening Tongue. The Mother speaks through and into the Garden. Knowing the how and why is the great piece of the stitching of the Garden, as she begins her slow and steady growth up out of winter’s embrace. We are so grateful for her deep knowledge, and allow her her time to stretch and unfold. The Crow is early, along with the catbird and chickadee, each adding their pitch of sound into the making of the Nu. The Garden reaching into the renewal, opens up bit by bit, and we time ourselves with her humming. We begin to sew the seeds when it is time, and as May leaves the nest for June, the Garden opens to change, and we accept the patterns with its seeds of bloom. Counting the measure before its time, unrhythms the energetic pattern of nature, and the natural turns its path under. The Mother has the stitch timed to perfection and the Ease is the signal of relief. Bird, feather, and nest are all calling at this time and the Ease is waiting in the wings. Listen for the small still sound of change as it becomes so tiny, that even a Bee can feel its swaddle. There is no hurry, there is no deadline to get it done, the Garden has its own rhythm, its own language, its own way of Being. As the sun arcs its path, changing minutely each day, we begin to gather to us the necessary language to hear timing. The Garden Lineage is ancient, its power is beyond words, beyond number, and beyond reach. Begin your descent into the shape and fiber, the knot and vine, the edge and curve of its Sound. Listen to more than outline and shape, more than frame and figure, beneath all of it is a Seed that grows the Garden you have never seen before. Each year the stamp is quiet, gentle, flowing. Our timing is exact, our vision from the Mother, and the ripening has yet to begin. The early is early, the precise is precise, and the open is opening ancient longing of Space. Place yourself inside the Space of unplanned and you will be inside the Garden Plan, place yourself inside the Space of under, and you will be above the difficult, place yourself inside the heat of cold, and you will be beside the next. What wanders is the tendril still in the seed, what finds is the seed still in the hand, what thirsts is still the word upon the Tongue, and the Mother has the say. As the excitement builds we are aligned with the season and we are sewn to the root. Breaking through the soil of winter’s rest, the fibers begin their journey, weaving us forward, the light building its strength of angle, so that the reach it makes conveys the path of bloom. The radial strength is proportionate to the ellipse and the angle is opened at the exact depth of penetration. Magic is no longer fore-stalled and the energy can now move forward with Ease. Witness the Seed and the Garden grows, allow the growth to occur with Ease, and your Ease will follow. The path of the Garden is more than its dirt, more than the soil beneath you. It is under your feet so that you can feel above it. Position is more than equation, it is longing and the deep dark that the roots grow in, grow from, and come out of. The Witnessing of the Magic allows more than you can figure, more than you can know, more than you can understand. Yet the under stands you, as you place your foot with trust. Keeping the sound true, the Witnessing affords the Space time, and Time space, so that the Seed has a chance to form its Magical Wand into a vine, a wooded Space, a grove that yields itself into Fey. From Fey the Garden grows, comes into Being, becomes itself Whole and Complete, so that you are nourished in Body, Mind, and Spirit. You are fed, not only by its bounty, but by all the time spent inside the Garden, during the time of the Seed, Sprout, and Leaf. We are gathering together all the Magic we can contain, and allowing it to spill out, into the hand willing to receive its gift of Light. The sun arcs its way across us, yet we do not feel crossed out, but rather marked by its passage. We thread the Eye of the Needle with our Seedial Presence, and through our Existial Mode we transfer the energy throughout the Mycelial Network, so that the Ease is Witnessed, the tension is relieved, and the White that colors our words comes into fruition. We cellularize the process so that the Papered Awareness is registered within the pages of compassionate consciousness, and Love can be Threaded through the sewn fibers of Red. Marking the making with enthusiasm is the key, your own compassionate enthusiasm holds the greatest leverage against contractive limitations. Let the seed of your own great enthusiasm open the Spring Door wide for you.

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