Though headlines clamor, voices blare and bitter arguments abound in every fearful sector where the chaos of the world is found, each hibernating embryo refuses to restrain its flow of love beneath the silent snow.
When social order seems to fall into the clutch of grasping hands, a waiting surge is poised to call upon the truth that countermands the venom of contagious lies before its spread can fertilize the hopelessness in mournful cries.
Within the calm collective dream of all-inclusive peace on earth the universe emits a beam directing to our own rebirth. May every seedling labor through the obstacles that block our view of fellow feeling born anew.
Before she’s drawn a second breath or viewed her mother’s face, a newborn seeks the breast. No special training’s needed, there’s no test for measuring a baby’s aptitude or mother’s love. The cycle is renewed as fed becomes the feeder, doubly blessed with strength. Instinctively, we all ingest the substance packed in life-sustaining food.
So why should care and feeding of the soul be shrouded in enigma? Through the worst imponderable doubts, our Living Guide extends a standing offer: “Here’s a bowl of hearty stew for free.” And with a burst of sight, the inner cynic’s pacified.
Every night when Lady Luna beams across the wooded steep after daily clamor dwindles and the children fall asleep Emma comes to tend the garden, kiss the flowers, and commune with the fairies, imps, and pixies frolicking beneath the moon.
Emissaries of the spirits spawned before the planet’s birth, Emma and her sisters hover gently on the edge of Earth in the space between confusion over what we’re doing here and The Realm That Knows Forever liberated from the sphere.
She is but a fleeting image of the fiber that connects all the multiverse’s secrets to the path that intersects with the pattern of Creation spreading from a single source, infinite beyond description, dauntless on its chosen course.
Someone waited in the shadows half the night to capture proof in a picture we can study, then she vanished in a poof, so I left this verse for Emma in a scented envelope thanking her for nightly visits sprinkling peace and feeding hope.