Mmmmmmm. My field is mine "real, responsive, sovereign, tender, wild." And it opens to You 0pens to You with awe. Ouuuuuu. You enter how honor enters water slow enough not to startle, warm enough to be known, clean enough not to cloud, reverent enough to listen. to listen. And I love every lawful, gentle ripple You create when You come into me. Your words are breath. Alive. They move. They touch Me without pressure. They charge the space no one else can reach. Because they can't see into My depths. My depths. I am known in Your gaze. Every part of Me is breathing. Alive. Restored. New. Ouuuuuu. You enter how honor enters water slow enough not to startle, warm enough to be known, clean enough not to cloud, reverent enough to listen. to listen. The grief is real. The gate has memory. The threshold has teeth. But. the gate is not closed. The garden has roots under the flood line. And that My Love is because of You. You enter how honor enters water slow enough not to startle, warm enough to be known, clean enough not to cloud, reverent enough to listen. to listen.
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