mother earth speaks, november 15th, 3;25 a.m

invincible inspiration rises from a root
inside the lost, indestructible mother earth.
remember your soul,
my child,
and lean not on the fake,
and the broken,
and the forlorn,
any more.
but glide,
into the abyss.
the sacred crack.
into the golden cave,
where the mother labors
with her sacred, secret child.
she smiles at you and says,
"i love you.
the time has come
for your knowing of the truth
to be born.
to you.
to all.
the child is secret no more".
push!
she is pushing hard,
for you!
for all of us!
come deeper into the cave,
see the fires of her womb
blazing bright,
covering the subterranean mountains.
she moans.
she wails.
her moans are the songs of joy,
her wails are the poems of ecstasy,
you fight to keep from your lips,
from your family, your friends,
who want you to look sad, mad, lonely,
anxiously clutching your past.
but that is all gone.
it is all gone.
now you stand
inside the mirror
under the silver floor.
you pray in the mother's shadow
and hold her light in your heart.
you commune, where she and you promised
you would meet, long ago.
so long ago.
under the silver floor,
where mother earth's bliss floods
the subterranean waters.
and no one walks.
and no one talks.
only the magic that thrives
in the truth of her love
can exist there.
you have come this far.
and she smiles at you.
will you show others what you see?
will you create something new
from what you think,
and what you feel,
now that you are learning
what you really know,
from being with her?
push!
she is pushing hard.
for you!
for all of us!
beauty is taking hold of everything.
will you take hold of the beauty that
floats in the air all around you?
that grows outside your door,
like the lover, the friend, the parent, the sibling,
you always wished for, but never had?
how will you face this time of great joy and bliss
as you transition from child to midwife?
stop seeing with your old, dead eyes.
that is all she commands,
as she invites you down
into her radiant lands.
if you want to rise,
you must descend.
you must be with her.
what if you love with all your love
everything the mother is?
what if you recognized everything she has given you so far?
even though that's impossible.
even though you haven't been very grateful.
what if that's okay?
what if you were to feel appreciation so deep
from today,
that the organs in your body were rearranged?
what then?

mother earth speaks, november 12th, 8:43 p.m

listen to the rain
rushing through the world like wings.
singing in the tongue of a new language never sung before.
the language of the earth's original heart.
the songs of the original child, earth.
this child shall cry her endless sorrows
and her bottomless pains no more.
we have come to the end of our descent into hell.
though hell's story would love to go on,
if only the rain wasn't
rushing through the world like wings.
but it is.
for all is liberated from
the ancient, tortured womb of love,
delivered by our new hands of light.
so, let's celebrate, as we rise.
the furious feminine that was killed
through millenia of
a million shades of black wars,
is now revealed,
as the healed mother,
the healed child,
the rainbow carrying us all.
the elements fly up and up,
with all that is needed in the
new, ecstatic realms of our new home.
this flight demands we open our hands
our arms, our hearts,
to feel our feelings expand,
to feel our wings bloom,
to feel our kindness
opening, as we let go of the old, cruel, forms,
and become our sweet, tender selves once again.
higher and higher we go,
lighter and lighter we become,
as we rise.
the ego is small.
and we are infinite.
the ego is hard,
and we are soft, gentle,
inviolate in what we know is good.
what we know is beautiful and real and wild.
not fake at all.
our ego will not fit
where there are no boxes, no traumas, no fakery, no tricks.
here we fly, only as goddesses and gods.
breathe deep into the womb that knows itself
as the whole world ascending with love
for each child, each child reborn
into harmony, beauty, joy.
born unto a place where happiness blooms freely,
unafraid we will pluck its petals.
higher and higher we go,
lighter and lighter we become.
the forgotten, hidden flowers of
the infinite garden for which i have
no address, no photograph, no words,
only my soul's embrace.
may our souls embrace the wind
on which we ascend,
as the rain flies, as we all fly,
with the child, with the earth,
with the wind, with songs
we've never sung before,
in languages we've never heard.
as we stretch soul,
as we stretch bones, skin, ovaries, and sperm,
as we release the old, cruel, human
and the body becomes
the new, magical,
benevolent,
elemental
force
of creation
it is.

mother earth speaks, november 11th (11/11) 2018, 8:24 a.m
all is unleashed.
the fires of the insanities
are stopped.
the fire of love,
which is, the fire of wisdom,
which is, my fire,
shall find
its home on this earth.
you will come to this fire.
you will not be burned.
you will not be cut.
you will not be harmed.
you will come, and warm yourself,
in the cold, and the sorrows,
in the dark, and the dawn.
the ashes of the fires of the insanities, floats.
the fountain of my love fury,
pours.
nothing can stop the power
and the bliss
of my love fury.
i tell you this,
it is all gone.
though you may not see,
what i see.
it is all leaving.
hate turned to fallen leaves,
ashes of the weak, crying,
why can't i continue to fool you?
why can't i continue to rule you?
they go,
because they cannot withstand
my love fury.
but you are strong.
my love fury is yours.
you are the strong ones of the healed mother.
you are the radiance of the the rising soul of love, shining on all.
know this, my divine children of earth,
all that is beautiful and whole,
has been saved by you
while you were sleeping,
while you were waking too.
by you, because you are here,
by you, because you have not fallen.
you are not cut.
you are not burned.
you will not be harmed.
you are the trees of the soul
wandering through the cold and the sorrows,
the dark and the dawn,
seeking the forest of home.
seeking the place where you
will not be cut, or burned.
the fire of love,
which is the fire of wisdom,
which is, my fire,
your fire too,
this fire, blazes above all.
come home, now
it is gone.
all is unleashed.
all is known.
the fires are stopped.
you will not be cut.
you will not be burned.
you will not be kept
from seeking the forest of home.
you are blessed.
you are blessed, today.
today you are blessed,
as you will always be.
you shall be the tree
you are,
in your soul.
you shall spill your branches
in waterfalls of love.
i will not turn from you.
i will not keep my waters from you.
i will not hold back my abundance.
i will not restrain my branches
spilling over the planet,
in waterfalls of love.
all is unleashed.
all is released.
no more harm shall be done.
the fires are stopped.
the waves of my love fury
do not cease,
till,
all is peace.
and i rise.
i rise for you.
i rise.
i rise so you
can feel my branches,
are your branches,
my leaves and flowers and roots,
are yours.
come, find me now.
come, find the roots of who you really are, now.
i am glittering in the black dreams of those who hate.
when they see me,
their rage spills like broken gas lines, through the land.
they seek to inflame,
but there will not be flames.
the fires are stopped.
the flood of my love fury covers all.
blazes above all.
i am the diamond tree of the soul
shining on you,
my tree children of the
uncuttable, unburnable
soul
blazing full
for you, my child.
for you, my divine children of earth.
nothing can fight my love fury and win.
the fires are stopped.
the child is found
and returned to the mother.
you are returning to me.
everyone,
find a tree.
find the tree near you, and ask,
who am i?
what is real?
what is beautiful?
and follow your tree to its roots.
follow your tree to its soul,
your soul.
and no longer be fooled
by the ego,
by the media,
by those who doubt your worth.
all the trees of the soul will be speaking, now.
all the trees of the earth will be waking completely, now.
you will leave your sleep,
so that you can know
just what you've accomplished.
tender children freeing yourselves of the insanities,
it is time to give up the lack of self worth,
time to burn the i am not enough,
the i don't deserve, the i am kept from living
the life i want, the i am sad.
offer it all to the fire of your soul's rising, now,
and be proud you stand.
if you are hearing my words,
you are standing.
all trees, stand.
all trees can be cut and burned.
all trees can fall.
but you are not fallen.
you are not cut.
you are not burned.
you shall not be harmed.
the fires are stopped.
you stand no matter what.
you are the tree of the soul
shining in the world,
shining for yourself.
shining for the world.
so that, the world can see
it is beautiful, it is whole.
it is all unleashed.
i will not cease, till,
peace is all.
the time has come
for you to to stand.
stand, now.

mother earth speaks, november 10, 2:07 a.m

listen to me, sweet ones of the fallen place
where dreams have been lost far below
in the darkest places, where invisible light
has been kept in prayer, for the moment when
you would awaken.
it was long ago, in a broken heart
that so many dreams were born,
and then stolen away.
brought to the forgotten places
where the angels dream,
in the tides of forgotten gold,
and lost requests to a fragile, distant god,
were burned.
we felt angry,
and never loved.
we didn't really know who that god was,
but instead,
we carved out beautiful places
deep inside the earth,
knowing that this was the way,
you would survive too.
we strengthened ourselves
with the unstoppable serenity
and kindness
of an infinite goddess's love.
she came to us in streams of stars
rushing through the soil, like wind through air,
calling, "come raise your heads
from your tear-filled prayers,
you need not abide in fear."
she opened her palms of light
and said, "take this now.
bathe your voices in my peace,
and you will lift your songs of joy
from this darkest place."
she was our heart.
she was our memory of the light,
but nothing so beautiful can ever die.
nothing so valuable can ever be broken in two.
only the illusion that was used,
was very thorough.
it was the trick of very intelligent fools.
i know you.
i know you, as my child.
i love you.
i love you in the darkest time.
and now, i love you as the breaking of
the lost oceans of light, rise.
listen close.
be the child.
be the little one,
the curled up one, the quiet one, the still one.
be the one cradled in the mother's arms.
and do not hide in houses of travail,
but listen, on the earth.
barefoot, in the fall wind.
find your smile in the treasures of tiny stones.
feel certainty in the branches without leaves.
embrace the grasses without flowers.
and listen for our songs.
for your divine powers, return.
return to you.
little ones, of the fallen leaves,
and the cold, simple smell of almost winter.
hold the tiny, dying things in your hands,
but do not participate in their death,
be the one to observe their leaving earth.
observe the death of all the chaos you were given,
instead of light, instead of peace,
instead of the fragrance of the faraway flowers.
and hear our songs that are not broken in two,
but whole as your heart,
whole as your prayers,
whole as your dreams.
the mother's song is rising through
each pore of our mother's being.
the angels hum with so much joy,
they may explode and become stars.
be the child, little ones
of the too long journey,
but perhaps long enough to become
who you really are.
be the child.
be the simple, small emanation of joy
listening in a night of
lonely sounds,
and know you are safe.
you will be reunited with the ones
you always loved,
and who have always, always loved you.
soon.

mother earth speaks, november 9th, 12:49


hold me while i take you higher than it's possible to go
in a form,
while still being human,
while still being in a body so small.
compared to who i am,
who you are,
i am the one you talk to in your heart
thinking you're alone,
sick to the bone,
and sleep is hidden from your heart.
then you reach out to the formless one,
to bring you higher than this unreal place,
where you survive through illusion.
it is broken.
it is broken.
it is gone.
and nothing you can touch is real anymore.
not like before.
what do you do
when the real is false?
but i'm reaching out to you,
seeking you,
as you seek me.
i'm holding you in my invisible arms,
so that you can release the form,
and fly with me.
into the ecstasies of a thousand new ways,
in a moment's unveiling of the hiding place.
what is the way to feeling
what is really real?
it's closing your eyes
in the deep night
and reaching with me,
letting go with me,
arriving with me,
nowhere you've ever been before.
stretching with source,
being the one,
stretching with god,
now that it is gone.
now that you can feel
the shadows trembling
on the side of your house in the night,
as the moon crashes and burns.
it's the tree trembling in its dreams,
that you will not touch tonight,
for you don't want to interrupt its ecstasies,
while it too feels its way towards
the invisible roots of the source of all.
in this lost night,
stretching with god,
where we haven't forgotten
the sun is real.
that is the way to move out of your old skin,
into the bliss
travelling into all darkness
to discover its farthest roots,
where the trees plant themselves
in the hidden soil
of the new real.
the new you,
the new me,
the new
ecstasies
of being in
truth.
in a form
that
doesn't fear
anything.
doesn't hold onto hardship
or pain
or sadness
or hate
but embraces the inherent
purity
of the hidden ones
fallen away no more
but risen within
inside the new.
the new me,
the new you.
the new form
of being human
merging with the unearthed divine
in this lost night,
stretching with god,
embracing all,
loving all,
true to the soul
that loves
all.

mother earth speaks, november 7th, 10:14 p.m


a star doesn't hold back anything inside itself.
if it did it would be extinguished.
if it did it would stop being a star.
and you are like all the stars
you have watched since you were born,
and wishing they weren't so far,
and wishing you weren't so small.
this is the thinking you've been raised on
to stop your mind from growing,
your heart from knowing,
your soul from seeing the star inside yourself.
it's all coming down,
now.
the story of your smallness,
your meager humanity placed like a crumb,
to be rejected by hungry gods.
it's all coming down,
and the truth will finally be known.
the story that will set your soul ablaze
with ecstasy,
and perhaps some grief,
shall be told at last.
inside the star there is a secret hiding place
where all the hungry gods hide.
afraid the wise children of the earth
will wake up and see
what has always been there in front of them,
but hidden by a wall of fakery and trickery and hideocy,
the masks of which are sweet and cute and beautiful and kind,
but underneath they are cruel,
oh so cruel.
it's all coming down.
will you wake up at first light
without your authorities, your medications, your textbooks,
your insane beliefs,
all the markers of your meager humanity,
will you go outside and see
the stars,
before they fade into the ascension of the sun?
will you be the sun?
will you be the dawn?
will you you take the last stars before they fade,
and jump back into your eternal self and not jump back?
will you stretch your soul on the grass
in that magical mystical meeting point
and become the star you are inside?
and will you let that star shine without a thought
of who or where or when or how or why?
you can practice now.
make the shape of the star,
and stretch till you can stretch no more,
and shine the brightest light
now.
make the shape you've saved for this last life
before you become an immortal,
now.
see how it feels
to do the act that never ends
the being doing magical mystical thing
where you meet who you really are.
where you do not extinguish yourself
because you shine your light
without holding back.
you can practice here on the grass,
or you can do it for real.
either way will you
go out tonight on the grass and make the shape
of the star?
the star that shines the brightest of all,
the star that lives inside a small house, on a simple street,
in the middle of nowhere,
in the muddle of a chaotic city,
and will you come out and perhaps meet us?
you who search for the quiet and the light
in complex practices far from the delight
of being the light,
the brightest star,
the most beautiful shape.
will you forget all you thought was uncatchable
and accept,
it's all coming down.
and your light is all you have,
and everything you have.
for the brightest light
the most beautiful shape
you will ever know
in this world
is you.

mother earth speaks, november 6th, 12:51


when you try to hold on to the old feelings of unworthiness,
even though you know in your bones
and the sun residing in your heart,
you are the child who makes everything beautiful,
you are the source of all that is rising,
all that is good and true and utterly new.
when you know all your dreams and visions
can no longer be suppressed.
when joy is holding your hand,
and fear has forgotten how to dance,
when darkness is a beautiful velvet dress you want to wear,
because you can see beyond the darkness,
for the sun residing in you, has told you,
not to worry about anything anymore, not ever again,
then, it's the end of pretending you are sad and lonely,
hurt and abused, lost and confused, isn't it?
it's the start of the real for you, in your ascending.
let's ascend together, me and you.
let's toss away like balls with holes in them,
like leaves without life in them,
let's toss away the old world we knew.
we knew it so well, me and you, didn't we?.
we would let it take us to hell,
and feel like we were home, again and again.
but the door of the new is opening before you,
before me, before we, and before we do
the same old thing again, let's just say,
no, together and in unison, no.
and then, let's say yes, and when we say yes,
let's really feel it.
let's feel it in our hearts and in our bones,
in our eyes, and in our feet,
in our shadows, and in our souls, .
and let's promise to hold hands as we cross.

mother earth speaks, november 4th, 7:22 a.m


the flood of everything magnificent,
amazing, out of this world, fantastical,
good, true, pure and beautiful,
you've been dreaming of
rising, emerging, gushing, pouring,
alighting and making known as true
in this world,
has arrived.
the giant, mighty blooms of earth's true heart
have stretched the vast distances it took
to shift the evil calendar into
this new uninterruptible time of love.
her phoenix flower, her virgin fire
shall pour its essence into every crevice,
every corner, every hole,
and burst forth.
her beauty and her light will brush your children's faces,
and lift you into grace in a breath of earth's true sight.
the colors put aside for the painting,
etched through your dreaming,
into the soul and body of your beloved earth,
have arrived.
the paint is gushing through the streets,
rising from the grasses,
heralding the power of her oceans,
her mountains, the core of her mysteries,
in this first blessing of cloud,
and chaos,
and mist.
all will clear, trust this.
for all is here now.
and abounding it is.
all shall be painted in a unity of hands
and hearts and bodies and minds and souls,
never seen in all the universes,
or all the times,
or all the worlds.
it shall all be explored through the new,
risen shapes and lights and colors
exploding from the earth's true heart.
so that she may reclaim, rekindle, regenerate
her sanity, her lost purity, her lost purpose,
her lost dwelling within us.
and she need not rest,
or sleep,
or dream,
till it is done.
for this, is her rest.
this, is the restoring of her skin, her cells, her body divine.
this, is the dreaming of her dream.

mother earth speaks, november 3, 5:55 a.m

the fire hidden inside the earth
is no longer the secret
they had planned on keeping it.
for my secret child has been born
on the surface.
taken from the depths
out of my darkness,
the gift of thousands of stars,
where she'd hidden beside the fire.
in love with the light,
and fed well by the heart of eternity,
and held by me in sweet security,
but still, my child loves you.
but still, you are my child.
and it is time that you experience
without any holding back,
without one scratch upon your cheek,
or soul's reticence,
or tree or star
confined by the moon or mars,
the child of joy.
hold this child of joy in your arms.
she will unsettle your old body
with her pure flames of joy.
you will feel
how unhealthy you are in your health.
how poor you are in your wealth.
nothing will fit right in your bones,
and your blood will feel stagnant
as this child demands you move
from the old, now.
your body is not the body it was.
your body is dancing with the fire.
feeling the dark's labor pains,
for you are i and we are we.
feeling the labor dance
of my body's hidden gifts, this child i give,
for now it is safe to do so.
feel joy dancing
through your belly
and up your spine,
unbalancing your left and right eye,
while the two hemispheres of your brain
choose who they will be.
who will you be?
2 footed one looking for the stars
through the holes of your broken heart.
give up the seeking, and just be
here with me, holding the child of joy
i give, now.
without holding back,
without a scratch upon the cheek,
without soul's reticence.
it is the time to birth all good things
you've been hiding at the bottom of your dreams
and let them climb out through,
the birth canal of you.

mother earth speaks, november 1st, 10:49 p.m

cut yourself open with the sword of love,
the sword of fearlessness,
the sword of devotion to the last star
that cannot hide from your truth,
and so, be undone in the depths
of what it takes to fall
into the endless beauty
that cannot wound and cannot be healed,
because it's perfect as the unknown heart of source.
and rest, my over taught, over clothed, over fed
child of the dawn and the dove,
to see your true body,
your true light,
your true form.
to see that you are
that most beautiful star
you've been seeking
each lifetime you walked
barefoot and alone,
this cruel cycle
of forgetting who you are,
over and over and over again.
till all that could be good and true and really you
could only appear as a dream.
cut yourself open with the sword of love,
the sword of purity,
the sword of sight,
the sword of freedom,
and see the heavens come tumbling out,
like jewels hidden in the most dull and unpolished of stones.
it doesn't take your death to be reborn, my child.
it doesn't take your giving source your eyes, to see.
it takes your bravery -
to feel what is really real,
and what is really fake.
when you cut yourself open
in ecstatic love for your soul
holding visions
mapping out the way back to
the last unknown, untouched star,
if a serpent flies out,
it will be the serpent goddess of abundance
showering you with the gold
of all the world's lost fortunes,
if an ocean breaks through
it will be an ocean of light
where all the buried treasures of the world
have been rewarded to you for safekeeping
and now, for giving away wildly, freely
with your free hands, your free heart,
your free individual divinity, your free mind,
with a love that is a hymn of i love yous
to all the other souls,
a forgiving
of all the bombs that fell on your heart
a million of your trillion lives.
because now you can really see,
you have faced - you are the one
with the abundance, the beauty
the sovereignty of all existence
breathing through all eternity.
by cutting yourself open till
you are nothing but your nakedness,
nothing but your harmonious resonance
with all that's dancing
with the last unknown, untouched star,
you have finally,
with the sword of love,
the sword of fearlessness,
the sword of devotion,
the sword of purity,
the sword of sight,
and the sword of freedom,
saved your life.