Musing Diaries

The Beloved

I search for the Beloved in all faces but I’m left disillusioned.
I’m told I can find him but all I catch are glimpses, flashes of a man who does not exist here on this plane.
How can a light as fierce and blinding as the Beloved's be sustained by man when man is weak and fragile, nothing more than a twig off of a stunted tree?
And I’m considered the fool for dreaming?
For longing?
For seeking?
I’m considered weak for being sensitive, for being feminine.
For feeling.
I make no concessions for being receptive and intuitive like the Queen of Cups. And if I should be deemed a fool it is only because I’m being measured against false truths.

When I sit by this meadow, by these trees, with sun above, and earth below, my heart calls out to a place that remains unnoticed, untouched by others.
We all lack knowing.
But my eyes do speak and my mind does see.
I shall remain blameless because I love.
And let this heart swell far beyond this moment. Let it envelop all things, seen and unseen for I am true.

How cruel and wondrous it is to be standing between two pillars.
To be able to reach out to one while still embrace the other
without the cloak of guilt or doubt clinging tenaciously from my neck.
Be gone with you both, thieves of spirit and glory,
You are nothing but illusions which keep me chained to convention.
You are not real.
I shall stomp you all beneath my feet should you even peak out of your graves.

Make no mistake.

Let me be awake in dream
for I am now the magician who breathes life into it.
May dream continue to represent the real, the lifting of the veil, the clearing of fog and sleep
May my intuition continue to guide me.
May I be unaffected by duality but committed to doing what is True and Right.

With the power of the elements,
It is done.