The Dividing Character 1a

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

V5.5

The Dividing Character
Purse your lips, and fold yourself. The time is now.The Dividing Character. Part and parcel of dividing out comes with no reason, no reason to, no reason for, no question that, and no question why. Why this, why now, what for, who with, who to? Questions, questions, questions, and then the embrace of doubt, the worst dance partner you could ask for, call upon, try to reason with. Dip, tuck, and roll, and leave behind your good self, so that what you have is new. Support yourself, support yourself, support yourself and not the Other, keep the distance, keep the distance, keep the distance going, going, going. Roll it out, and keep it going. Alice says, “What a time this is, with everything up in the Air, trying to stay that way, not wanting it to land and resolve.” The Cheshire Cat drops by and adds his two cents, “For the sugar”, he says, “helps keep food on the Table. Why are you whittling down the Spoons?” Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum say,” Nobody wants to feed Others, mostly just themselves these days.” They say this with very sad faces, and downcast eyes. The Red Thread wavers in the wind, the blowing wind that changes and renews, direction finder, compass and map, star chart and footpath maker. Divide and conquer frays the Thread, but you cannot break it, cannot tear it, cannot misuse it, it can only feed.The radial trust comes around the bend, cuts across the radial divide, circumnavigates the discord, cuts the binding, so that what’s left is right. Open creates Compassion, open creates Love, open creates Well-Being, and the harmony hums the cords . Folding the covers up close to us, we form a way to stay warm, to stay close to our feelings, and make the afraid uncomfortable to be near. We are so close to ourselves that we can’t be wavered, away from our own unity. Division, will never be the cover that folds us, so that we cannot remember what we need close. We are more memory in what’s soft, cosy, warm, unfunneled, undelivered, unspoken, because we have no conversation with ourselves that is left behind. We have not left behind our sweet memory of who we really are, no matter how many decisions others have made. We are inclusive of what is exclusive, and we are exclusive of what cannot make us feel included. We make more money in our merits than in our failures, and cuddle up with our most delicate needs that Time gives. We give Time to the Bell, the Whistle, the Teapot, the Pour, the Fragrance, the Whifting and wafting, so we can care more for what is close in, than far away. What is close in is becoming more whittled than wattled, and we watch to see what the message is.The Messenger, more felt than heard, more remembered than forgotten, more anointed than not.
We anoint ourselves as the finder of what was hidden. Under the swing we swang, to get away from what was waiting on the floor. Finally we swang so much that it left, and it took its prisons with it. The unsaid faltering that had no real consequence of the holes that it arranged for the Fall. So we fell, we fell into it, we fell onto it, we fell through it, we fell under it, and then we finally felt, and we finally knew, what was under the bed since we were two.
Too busy to be precious, too busy to be angelic, too busy to be the favorite, too small to understand, too brilliant to forget. To Be or not to Be was the reason we came, and then we found that what was not wanted, so we became someone else, and after three we forgot The Garden Plan.
Every storm, and every rainfall, we watered the seeds that forgot to grow. We dried the flowers that forgot to die.
We pardoned the crops that could not feed, we are the bell-ringers, the heart-throbbers, the minnow catchers,
the pie bakers, and the map-makers. Because of our constancy, we emerge each day with the same Red Thread and tie it to our dreams so that the Ease continues to follow us as we follow it. We match, and are the match-makers, who thread the weave to cloth. Enchanted are the times that lift, and the lifting comes easy where kindness occurs, and unkindness is not the dance partner. Quit the dance, drop your dance card, if your doubt and distain lead you about the floor. Put on your shoes, right foot first, and find the Red Thread that will only come into the hand, that weaves a Compassionate new partner. Tap, tap, tap, from head to toe, until you feel the release, feel the resolve, and come to the answer. Folding all our napkins in a row, we begin to initiate the assimilation of this time, in August 2026. A Moon in Solar time of great consequence, the changing of the guard, the rattling of the bones the stirring up of consequences and reminders. The integrity of the needle of the Red Threads being pulled through. The stitch in Time making a difference by levitating the dime of Ten, the ten of silver, that feeds the world’s parking space ten by ten, adding up to the parking code needed, to feel generated by Love.

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The Dividing Character Purse your lips, and fold yourself. The time is now.The Dividing Character. Part and parcel of dividing out comes with no reason, no reason to, no reason for, no question that, and no question why. Why this, why now, what for, who with, who to? Questions, questions, questions, and then the embrace of doubt, the worst dance partner you could ask for, call upon, try to reason with. Dip, tuck, and roll, and leave behind your good self, so that what you have is new. Support yourself, support yourself, support yourself and not the Other, keep the distance, keep the distance, keep the distance going, going, going. Roll it out, and keep it going. Alice says, “What a time this is, with everything up in the Air, trying to stay that way, not wanting it to land and resolve.” The Cheshire Cat drops by and adds his two cents, “For the sugar”, he says, “helps keep food on the Table. Why are you whittling down the Spoons?” Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum say,” Nobody wants to feed Others, mostly just themselves these days.” They say this with very sad faces, and downcast eyes. The Red Thread wavers in the wind, the blowing wind that changes and renews, direction finder, compass and map, star chart and footpath maker. Divide and conquer frays the Thread, but you cannot break it, cannot tear it, cannot misuse it, it can only feed.The radial trust comes around the bend, cuts across the radial divide, circumnavigates the discord, cuts the binding, so that what’s left is right. Open creates Compassion, open creates Love, open creates Well-Being, and the harmony hums the cords . Folding the covers up close to us, we form a way to stay warm, to stay close to our feelings, and make the afraid uncomfortable to be near. We are so close to ourselves that we can’t be wavered, away from our own unity. Division, will never be the cover that folds us, so that we cannot remember what we need close. We are more memory in what’s soft, cosy, warm, unfunneled, undelivered, unspoken, because we have no conversation with ourselves that is left behind. We have not left behind our sweet memory of who we really are, no matter how many decisions others have made. We are inclusive of what is exclusive, and we are exclusive of what cannot make us feel included. We make more money in our merits than in our failures, and cuddle up with our most delicate needs that Time gives. We give Time to the Bell, the Whistle, the Teapot, the Pour, the Fragrance, the Whifting and wafting, so we can care more for what is close in, than far away. What is close in is becoming more whittled than wattled, and we watch to see what the message is.The Messenger, more felt than heard, more remembered than forgotten, more anointed than not. We anoint ourselves as the finder of what was hidden. Under the swing we swang, to get away from what was waiting on the floor. Finally we swang so much that it left, and it took its prisons with it. The unsaid faltering that had no real consequence of the holes that it arranged for the Fall. So we fell, we fell into it, we fell onto it, we fell through it, we fell under it, and then we finally felt, and we finally knew, what was under the bed since we were two. Too busy to be precious, too busy to be angelic, too busy to be the favorite, too small to understand, too brilliant to forget. To Be or not to Be was the reason we came, and then we found that what was not wanted, so we became someone else, and after three we forgot The Garden Plan. Every storm, and every rainfall, we watered the seeds that forgot to grow. We dried the flowers that forgot to die. We pardoned the crops that could not feed, we are the bell-ringers, the heart-throbbers, the minnow catchers, the pie bakers, and the map-makers. Because of our constancy, we emerge each day with the same Red Thread and tie it to our dreams so that the Ease continues to follow us as we follow it. We match, and are the match-makers, who thread the weave to cloth. Enchanted are the times that lift, and the lifting comes easy where kindness occurs, and unkindness is not the dance partner. Quit the dance, drop your dance card, if your doubt and distain lead you about the floor. Put on your shoes, right foot first, and find the Red Thread that will only come into the hand, that weaves a Compassionate new partner. Tap, tap, tap, from head to toe, until you feel the release, feel the resolve, and come to the answer. Folding all our napkins in a row, we begin to initiate the assimilation of this time, in August 2026. A Moon in Solar time of great consequence, the changing of the guard, the rattling of the bones the stirring up of consequences and reminders. The integrity of the needle of the Red Threads being pulled through. The stitch in Time making a difference by levitating the dime of Ten, the ten of silver, that feeds the world’s parking space ten by ten, adding up to the parking code needed, to feel generated by Love.

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