Moovement
By Myriah and the Voice of Many, the Voice of One

Sometimes moving between objects and de-Sires is like wading through melons, thick and ripe, almost squnching with juice as Your footsteps mark the trail.

You know this trail. By Heart, of course. The melons will wait. You've come for something else, too. NOW it feels good to be mooving.

You've visioned this space and place often. Paradise. The Earth springs with every step You take.

Feel the beat of Your feet, in tune and step with the rhythm of Your Heart. Feel Your Self Walking the Earth.

Soul Heart Light pulses in waves of golden grains as You Walk.

Feel the beat of Your Heart. Laughing.

LOL. Have You seen the pig snout yet? Okay, now You are Laughing.

Your Laughter fills the grasses, like a long lost Wind. Your Heart Beat carries the tune in ripples and waves across the prairies. Across the Lands. The Lands of Imag-I-Nation. The Lands of the Higher Self.

The Wind returns, bringing Laughter back to You.

I Am Home, Your Voice echoes outward. Did You speak it out loud, You wonder as You Walked on.

Your Heart Beat sings into the Winds. Rippling. Reverberating outward with each pulse.

You have come, Little One. Arrived at last! A Gentle Face, a Gentle Presence, that forever-smile-in-My-Heart One. One Who Walks with the Wind appears before You.

Ay, We are Wind Walkers, and Walkers of the Lands, and Happy Hearts from varied Sands. We are the Colors of Creation. Endless Forms of Isness created spontaneously NOW. Surrender. He Laughs.

You giggle.

You HAD realized Surrender was the only choice at Hand. For sure and for certain. You were thinking beam Me up Scotty would be the next words from Your Voice, when Lo, in the distance..

..a far off rider calls
vanishing His Lady
into wishes, cares, and falls.
Not hardship hills,
But falls of water,
Dripping into lakes of matter.
What matter knot bestows the glance
Wherever winsome Lovers Glance.
Let Heart Light lead the way at last.
Be True of Heart.
Re-Lease the Past, a Voice echoes.

A pen produces itself from Your pocket. Your Heart beat quickens. You dip the pen into the Earth, which melts into a pool of Colors. There are no words to write, only Colors to form. Tones of Soul Heart Hues.

Shapes and forms, You are the Creators. The at-moss-sphere before You is nothing but a swirl of Color, woven with Love.

The avenues of Paradise are woven from the Colors of Your Soul Heart.

And just what WOULD You have in Your World? What creations, creatures, and critters would live there? What work would You do? What Joys would You create? O-pen and create. Dive in and play deeply.

One Paradise has birch trees. A pair of them. Wild woods with Fairy Folk. Lizards, stones, and mossy rocks. Chickens, sheep, and goats and flocks of birds whose Paradise You know. They live in trees where there's few snows. Chickadees and little wrens, robins weaving dimensions, eagles, crows, some ravens too, a lot of geese (and icky poo), and don't forget the blue herons who weave the waters of matrons. Melons.

Where did the melons go? Ah, there they are. Right here. This is the
One You wanted. You pluck it from the branch, merely slowing Your step,
and Walk on.

Welcome Home, and thank You for sharing.

Comments and feedback welcome! Email Myriah at windweaving@hotmail.com.

Copyright

Notice Copyright 1999 Myriah Krista Walker. This information may be freely disseminated in whole or in part provided that there is no charge for the information, you give freely of your smiles, and this notice is attached. 'Meditations from the Grasses Roots' are offered as a sharing tool for self-empowerment and posted, with gratitude, at www.planetlightworker.com.