Nothing is futile. With each act of devotion there comes a fleeting glimpse behind the cosmic curtain. I’ve spent my years thus far striving to sustain myself from some form of whatever lies beyond our ability to comprehend. Convinced I was coming up empty handed and feeling further away than ever before, only now have I begun to sense a physical tear in the veil. There is a certain romance in the struggle of loneliness which eventually leads one to reluctantly glimpse into the divine mirror of the self. In relinquishing my hold on truth and surrendering to wonder, the sun has revealed its childlike luminescence and the sea has called to me from beyond the grave of cynicism. There it was– everything before me and yet inaccessible. Every regret, every inextinguishable sense of loss, every blockade before liberation seemed a damnable act of fortune. Fortunate indeed–the gray and pliable implications of the word pass us by.
There are depths to be penetrated and epiphanies to be sung. Night and day twirl in the sky as daily reminders of the divine to-do list. The star struck waif was never lost; she was brought to fruition and led by a planetary carriage straight to the door of her sacred inheritance. Here she stands, springs of heaven in her hair and a satiated silhouette of ethereal femininity. She studies the sacred archetype of the ballerina and sings herself to sleep with the promise of attainable perfection. The cracks in the lifelong illusion widen and her ‘being and everythingness’ fuse with the symphony that was once before a fleeting musical overtone.
Love is only truly alive when awakened in a state of divine resonance. As a work of art, it must be grasped from a higher plane and transformed through the human vehicle into a form of devotional expression. The little waif steps forth as a starstruck child of infinite celestial potential. She is crowned and revered in a fairy tale penned by her own hand. The fields are once again gold and the seas glitter with possibility just as she had gazed upon in her youth. No longer duped by material greed and duality, she is free and enraptured to explore philharmonic galaxies.
2 Replies to “Starstruck”
Beautiful! Saving this one for this evening’s witch review. SO GOOD.
Thank you so much!
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