• Heather

The Beloveds

Some creative writing inspired by life’s mysteries ✨

‘Borrow the Beloved's eyes ~ Look through them and you'll see the Beloved's face everywhere’ - Rumi

She stood on the shore, gazing out at the hazy island, remembering a timeless song from the depths that moved her to sway in time with the waves breaking on the sand. The tempo quickening she skipped bare foot over the frosted wave crests: splashing; swooshing; shimmying; ecstasy in rhythm building through resonance, moved so from knowing the higher octaves of love that flowed between them then and now still. She danced on the shores revelling in the natural riches, the richness of her own magic and mystery hence forth reflected in her experiences of the higher realms merging with the earthly plain. Trusting the winds blowing across the wild bounty of nature surrounding her dance.

The purity of her essence shining forth connected with the same frequency in her beloved. It called to him from deep within her remembering and her unwavering assurance of faith in the mystical light: this blinding love blasted and disintegrated every last shadow between the twain. It brought them bowing before spirit in awe, calling forth the highest, purest nature in one another. The only remnants of darkness were their own fragmented beliefs of lack, not yet convinced of their highest potential supported by the light-power. Fears of losing attachments had unconsciously kept them clinging to habits and security of outdated structures in the earthly realm; not fully aware of the serpents energy building and guiding from within, guiding them to serve our beloved planetary home and it’s bounteous nature, through integrity and humble intentions. Any last notions of clinging to each other had to die also... by wiping the slate completely clean of in-congruent obsessions from the past and fearful fixations of the future, the canvas was blank for a new dream to transpire without force. They did not own one another, nor did they wish to, rather there was a reverent respect for their individual steps on the path to paradise and a pious reverence for the greater universal life force they embodied.

A death had occurred, anything out of alignment with the integral higher plan would not find footing. All notions of control through force, imbalanced will and lower animalistic intentions were completely futile in the presence of this river light of spirit that flowed between them. They each died a little once more, peeling back another layer of who they thought they were, closer toward the heart-light of source creation made manifest. Dying to make space for new inspired ideas. In days of yore, travelling across the deepest valleys of melancholy and highest peaks of joy: through days, weeks and years they had wandered and wondered, yet never finding the embalming, imbibing mist of scared connection that swirled and softly soothed the beloveds like a precious, iridescent, incandescent whisper.

The ancient ones looked on bestowing blessings for their growth spiralling upward, out of centuries of scarcity and scarring, jarring fears. They poured forth the potential of unending abundance. The beloved’s drum beat synchronised steps away from stolen satiation's of the past; the drum beat of their hearts too loud and strong to be quietened by fears of snatching, grasping grips of dark shadows working through external forces. Thor’s thundering drum beat on. Pachamama’s drum, her rhythm, her song, creating visions, daydreams and dilemmas that a blank canvas presents, the veil lifting only partially, they had to feel their way. Success was unfolding, success in closing out the endless cyclones and cycles was there to step into: completion of the old stories and structures. Liberation: the quest too deeply etched and adorned flowing through the bloodlines

Moving forward in their emotional maturity and connection to the subtle realms brought with it an ability to discern true justice for the highest cause, on their path to happiness dancing step by step with their dharma and destiny in universal acceptance, releasing tensions through thunderous applause of incoming initiatory adventures. Guided ever upward, trusting heaven, keepers of the three fold flame: healing hearts in peace and harmony through the higher octave of love. The journey of deepest discovery of the epitome frequency: zenith, teachers of the divine, realigning each moment with the light through their legacy of love, treaty bound and dynasty led. ❤️

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