Percolation

Dropping expectations in preparation for sensations of living as the godForce that I am.

The seeds of expansion are steeped in intention, spiritual percolation leads to evolution of the godForce that I am.

I savour these cups of mystery brewed from my history and moving ever forward I leave what no longer serves far behind.

As the godForce rides my breath to the base of this device, the scent of freedom wafts up from the pain,

The signals all come rushing but only 1 will remain.

I invite the body to be the healer it has always been, I breathe deep in invitation to the device from within,

Letting the breath settle in the cradle of creation, in the crucible of pain there, it is rendered into freedom from the same.

The pain of what went before can no longer be, the momentum of my own evolution drives the instance of creation.

A new way to be.

Like the growing light of dawn, so grows my soul, as some other poet’s words echo from down the hall,

With another sip of mystery, I let go of the history, that’s how I get whole.

The godForce that I am.