Embodying our Spirit-Nature.


There is spirit residing in all things—animate and inanimate, alike.

If there is indeed some God, that so many worship—or Gods, than there is surely some anti-Christ as well.

I've surmised this, because I myself have explored the darker origins of my own awareness, stillness and being-character.

As sure as there is a higher vibratory nature, there is also a destructive force that compels those lower impulses to react.

We're able to summon either—darkness or light.

We are nothing more than the instrument or vessel, through which spirits reside.

Our identity is a construct—an illusion.

Musing ourselves, is nothing more than a matter of which embodiment we wish to entertain, perceived here in the material, mental and spiritual planes.

Just as we look upon our masters, they look down upon their slaves.

The choice is to be shepherded or enslaved.

There is worship and there is praise.

Are we a free people, or simply the embodied race of disdain?

Image credit: Alberto Restifo,


He’ll Search for Many Lifetimes, Just to Find Her.


He'll let her know he's interested

Evidenced by his willingness

To overcome his idle fears.

He'll go out of his way

In his own unique fashion

To share how he truly feels.

Confiding his spirit’s lust

Heart’s longing and wandering mind with her

No matter how much he masquerades.

She'll never have to wonder if it's her

His piercing eyes

Magnetic mind and pounding heart are set on knowing

More intimately than any other

Or even himself.

He'll find a way

Exploring the magical wilderness—lost for quite some time

Before stumbling upon

Standing before the entrance

Into the caverns of her heart.

Eventually revealing his own vulnerabilities

Shadow dance and lifetime of mistakes.

Her perfection to him is a glorious work of art.

He'll study every part of her in awe-struck admiration.

Sheltering her mind's musings from society's dismay

Clearing the way for her spirit to rise and holding space for her shadow to play.

They'll daydream of one another each passing day

While imagining the merging of their two souls.

There’s no foretelling how long two mates must wait

Before uniting in bittersweet

Splendid unison.

Having finally discovered the one they’ve called out to

So many lonely nights and tearful moons.

Winters past and summers too.

Bridging time—crossing the great divide of space

Imaginations realizing what they’ve always known innately from deep within

To be utterly and defiantly

Madly mysterious but true

Hearts colliding on this fateful date—the moment we say to ourselves

“I’ve finally found you.”


Image credit: Brady Bellini, Unsplash

Seven Generations Past—Earth Warriors’ Re-birthing.


Seven generations shall come to pass.

The corrupted minds of those who knew not,

To listen,

Will have a singular choice:

Become what you stand for or be at the mercy of what you fear.

We speak on behalf of Mother Nature,

Her laws and natural order.

No corporate branding or financial tier.

There is but one method of survival,

To live in unison with—amongst all life,

Cherished here.

Water is life.

Why must we resist,

Tolerate abuses and face political strife—to protect what's right?

Solutions are buried,

Beneath the Earth's soil—where they shall remain.

They're carried aloft,

In the winds that breathe life–turning the tide,

Of our future's wind-vane.

Flowing from the fountain—the steeple,

Of every mountain top.

Shining down upon each of us—so graciously,

Cultivating sustenance and sustainable progress—produced from every sacred rain drop.


Image credit: Kalen Emsley, Unsplash

The Value of Change.


Money is just a conduit of exchange.

A made-up construct that we lend value to.

The motive-force (motivation) is our own deed.

Why do we continue playing this game?

When trillions flow out and individuals accept their minuscule ration after being robbed in plain sight.

There lies no value in lending, when money earned is taken, then given back to borrow, on interest.

Are we this incredulous?

That we would simply allow a tyrannical patriarchy to steal away our spirits—our dignity, at the cost of our own sacrifices to meet their gain?

"This is just the way it is."

"Vote, or you can't complain."

Apathetic, whimsical cowardice—these pleas to please, remain the same.

I refuse to stand in silence or bow down to a system of greed.

I'll lay down my own life, to demonstrate the value of change.

Image credit: Tobias Keller,

Collective Drum Beat.


We're here to heal the collective wound.

The womb.

Our original trauma.

A pervasive wash.

Predicting the mind.

Controlling the masses.

Stealing our sound.

Our voices.


Laughter and muse.

The time has arrived.

To lift the gagging order.

Unleash our power.

Turn the tables.

On those who've perfected their miser.

Take it back.

Resist the feud.

Speak peacefully.

Walk deliberately.

Stand tall.

Reckon what's owed.

Pay tribute to the earth.

Nurture the abused.

Acknowledge the torment.

Face the truth.

Image credit: Anton Repponen,

Pain Free.

photo-1431440869543-efaf3388c585 (1)-iloveimg-resized.jpg

Whenever you feel inexplicable sadness.


Loss and no direction in between.

Whenever your heart aches with unidentified pain.


Fundamental anguish that has no name.

Whenever you wish to uncontrollably sob.


Know without a doubt that you can.

Turn whatever's ailing you into something new.

Just know too.

Know that I absolutely love you.


Image credit: Breno Machado, Unsplash

Healing the Mother Womb.


I can feel her pain and shortness of breath.

Petro-chemical parasite consuming her from within,

Cancer spreading rampantly,

Now starving itself from an insatiable appetite of perpetual gain.


Is what we're here to transmute.



Shamans and Wayshowers.

We are the children of the past—your ancestors returned.

Here to take over,

Make obsolete,

Once and for all,

The oil oligarchy's deceit.

Life-force choking,

Open sores bleeding profusely,

Human evolution stagnating.

Too many rivers dammed.

So much preservation,

Abhorrently unearthed.

Petro-laden chemical minds,

Manipulated, drugged and lashing tongues hating.

Agriculture dependent upon chemical warfare and genetic rape.

Openly practiced violence and ignorant speech,

Denigration of brothers and sisters,

Unreasonable to bare.

No more tolerance,

Of a corporate takeover.

Because we've given too much to what's trivial,

Without regard for our consequences—the forsaken.

Our children and their rightful passage into the future—our ancestors returned.

A barren and deserted landscape,

Putrefying values,

Oil slicked ocean and plastic-ridden nightmare.

We are killing one another,

To bask in our sin,

Of living too pridefully—lavishly and ignorantly,

Without regard for our children's future, birthing our return—herein.


Image credit: Jason Leem, Unsplash