Twice In A Blue Moon 2a

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

V5.5

We must close our arms around us and hug the very nature of what reaches to our heart. The kindness of forgiving, the layeredness of the heart accepting the stature of brilliance all begins to roll out the road ahead. We are the sky, we are the very nature of sky. Process is beginning to demand time, we are no longer allowed to skip over what needs to process, to integrate and impress upon all our sensibilities. We must listen to the deep voice of our begging, and move to know the rhythm of what now needs to speak. The motionary volume of desire begins to take up room in our lives, it begins to take up space in our world, and it accepts the turn over, the turn in, the turn through, because the relationshipial volume is not the same. We are no longer related to life in the same way, or the conspiracy of what is thought the same way. We unbalance the thread to untangle the knotted, so the spool can wind freely, and the gesture of color can increase upon the fabric of our listening. We become more natured by our willingness rather than our resistances. We become more natured by our curiosity rather than our dullness. Yes, the squeaking motion of the wheel gets the attention, but not the futureality. The quiet nature of listening, of breathing in the closeness of life, comfort, and acceptance becomes the very nature of the threads that we needle into the days ahead. The experience that clatters around us starts marking the worth of our living, the accumulation of our knowledge, the willingness to scribe, to paint, to write becomes a Logan of awareness. Over the river and through the woods is a journey many make, but the house of the grandmother is not always found and the warmth of ancient knowledge is not always accepted, so we return to the Wooded Way and begin to remember the nature of the Mother. The cloak, the small child, the red hood, the basket of bread, all checkered red and white, so that the remembrance is no longer frail. We bring the tales from childhood stories back into the algorithm of what is needed inside the woods. We bend into the nesting of words and birds, and feather and trees, and we become grateful to the woods, and the wisdom of the Wooded Way. The Wooded Way, the nature of our childhood longings, and the presence of the fairytale comes true in a life no longer imprisoned by make believe that never becomes real. You are the builder of the nest, the layer of the eggs, the sender of the hatching, the teacher of the flight, the We bring the tales from childhood stories back into the algorithm of what is needed inside the woods. We bend into the nesting of words and birds, and feather and trees, and we become grateful to the woods, and the wisdom of the Wooded Way. The Wooded Way, the nature of our childhood longings, and the presence of the fairytale comes true in a life no longer imprisoned by make believe that never becomes real. You are the builder of the nest, the layer of the eggs, the sender of the hatching, the teacher of the flight, the Motivated we must become, motivated we must become, motivated we must be. Occupied by the heart in a way we have never expressed. Are you ready for the other, or just another? Are you ready for the other, or just another? Are you ready for the other, then make it be. Mark the other so that no one can become another. Mark the other as the one, fold the other as the one, and take the one into ones, and the ones into twos, and the twos into threes, and become acquainted with trinary code. It is the pace of the future. You can’t pretend it. Mote it Be. You can’t be offended by it, Mote it Be. You cannot circulate it out, Mote it Be. You cannot assume, Mote it Be. The blame is not on you, or any you know, the blame is on what you do not know. Allow yourself to be set upright with your knowing and feeling joined at the same space and time. Mote it Be. We are timed to perfection, and we are timed to ripeness, and we are timed to the occasion that represents us to ourselves, so that we can be witness to the magic that assures us Safety Made Real. Keep to small and let the large grow, so that what becomes becomes more than just a small seed, it  become a vast ocean of emotion that can carry you beyond your limitations. Bring the bliss forward to yourself, be comforted by its presence in your life, be available to the out pouring so that the gift is handed to you, a squared perspective of Papered Awareness. Allow the Mer in you to become open and available to the Magic that is life itself presented forward, so that the ragged and jagged energies subside, and you are instrumental in resonance and beauty. Be the Blue Moon of Magic, and allow yourself to be orbited by the
nature of Dreams, and Story. Be yourself, then be yourself again, renewed and different. Folded within the spaces between feathers we locate our flight

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We must close our arms around us and hug the very nature of what reaches to our heart. The kindness of forgiving, the layeredness of the heart accepting the stature of brilliance all begins to roll out the road ahead. We are the sky, we are the very nature of sky. Process is beginning to demand time, we are no longer allowed to skip over what needs to process, to integrate and impress upon all our sensibilities. We must listen to the deep voice of our begging, and move to know the rhythm of what now needs to speak. The motionary volume of desire begins to take up room in our lives, it begins to take up space in our world, and it accepts the turn over, the turn in, the turn through, because the relationshipial volume is not the same. We are no longer related to life in the same way, or the conspiracy of what is thought the same way. We unbalance the thread to untangle the knotted, so the spool can wind freely, and the gesture of color can increase upon the fabric of our listening. We become more natured by our willingness rather than our resistances. We become more natured by our curiosity rather than our dullness. Yes, the squeaking motion of the wheel gets the attention, but not the futureality. The quiet nature of listening, of breathing in the closeness of life, comfort, and acceptance becomes the very nature of the threads that we needle into the days ahead. The experience that clatters around us starts marking the worth of our living, the accumulation of our knowledge, the willingness to scribe, to paint, to write becomes a Logan of awareness. Over the river and through the woods is a journey many make, but the house of the grandmother is not always found and the warmth of ancient knowledge is not always accepted, so we return to the Wooded Way and begin to remember the nature of the Mother. The cloak, the small child, the red hood, the basket of bread, all checkered red and white, so that the remembrance is no longer frail. We bring the tales from childhood stories back into the algorithm of what is needed inside the woods. We bend into the nesting of words and birds, and feather and trees, and we become grateful to the woods, and the wisdom of the Wooded Way. The Wooded Way, the nature of our childhood longings, and the presence of the fairytale comes true in a life no longer imprisoned by make believe that never becomes real. You are the builder of the nest, the layer of the eggs, the sender of the hatching, the teacher of the flight, the We bring the tales from childhood stories back into the algorithm of what is needed inside the woods. We bend into the nesting of words and birds, and feather and trees, and we become grateful to the woods, and the wisdom of the Wooded Way. The Wooded Way, the nature of our childhood longings, and the presence of the fairytale comes true in a life no longer imprisoned by make believe that never becomes real. You are the builder of the nest, the layer of the eggs, the sender of the hatching, the teacher of the flight, the Motivated we must become, motivated we must become, motivated we must be. Occupied by the heart in a way we have never expressed. Are you ready for the other, or just another? Are you ready for the other, or just another? Are you ready for the other, then make it be. Mark the other so that no one can become another. Mark the other as the one, fold the other as the one, and take the one into ones, and the ones into twos, and the twos into threes, and become acquainted with trinary code. It is the pace of the future. You can’t pretend it. Mote it Be. You can’t be offended by it, Mote it Be. You cannot circulate it out, Mote it Be. You cannot assume, Mote it Be. The blame is not on you, or any you know, the blame is on what you do not know. Allow yourself to be set upright with your knowing and feeling joined at the same space and time. Mote it Be. We are timed to perfection, and we are timed to ripeness, and we are timed to the occasion that represents us to ourselves, so that we can be witness to the magic that assures us Safety Made Real. Keep to small and let the large grow, so that what becomes becomes more than just a small seed, it become a vast ocean of emotion that can carry you beyond your limitations. Bring the bliss forward to yourself, be comforted by its presence in your life, be available to the out pouring so that the gift is handed to you, a squared perspective of Papered Awareness. Allow the Mer in you to become open and available to the Magic that is life itself presented forward, so that the ragged and jagged energies subside, and you are instrumental in resonance and beauty. Be the Blue Moon of Magic, and allow yourself to be orbited by the nature of Dreams, and Story. Be yourself, then be yourself again, renewed and different. Folded within the spaces between feathers we locate our flight

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