the truest sun is love.

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 It darkens now, the sun rests early into the spherical horizons, a halo above the nighttime prolonged, revered.

An intention is pinned by the precipices of my heart— the truest sun is love. As October rolls by with the grandest lessons on lightness and ease, eyes are closed. The heart knows.


How this soul has learned to pay attention to its vehicle, how it has chosen to see close, see deep, see the truth surfacing clear. 


It’s November soon, and now love knows it can choose this soul as its instrument. It has readied itself with death after death. There are many more, for sure, there are many cycles of forgiveness and shame to experience before it’s truly time.


Yet now, love knows it can live with courage. It can endeavour through the fearlessness of being chosen over and over again. It can climb its climb and shine— a sun, a star, in the infinite galaxies of isness.


A star knows its lonesomeness is a silence only for the ones who know what it’s worth. The mountainsides are eased in steps we take to surrender beyond surrender known and learned.


Will this soul receive the love standing on this mountain? Will this heart shatter in the brokenness of becoming the mirror of love and a mirror or humanness at the same time?


Will the paradox shed what impedes the translation? And will it allow the light to truly shine..


I wonder, November, I wonder. 


I intend and surrender.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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