The Self Leader Secret
Recently I read a quote about the Neothink Consciousness we are experiencing that brought to my mind just how this leap communicates itself to each of us. It will benefit all of us if we gain and keep sensitivity to the processes occurring within us, in our core Essence–> the minuscule baby steps as these make themselves known to us, IF we develop this sensitivity to ourselves=even to Others, since we all have common denominators that connect us together.
What now came to mind is a poem that told me a lot about where I was at the time of the writing. I will have to explain something about my poetry–> I cannot quote it, and I have always had the feeling that “IT writes me”, and realized at some point that IT uses my feelings, and experiences as IT’s raw material, but puts it all into a way of expression that I myself would not be able to “think” it. I now realize IT is the blooming of Consciousness itself within this Self I call me…It might be said, in a way, that I channel my Essence Self, in a non-mystical sense…
What follows is my personal metaphor, and may or may not rouse feelings of similarity, since we are all so unique in our expressions of our own Essence…This might be an example of what can occur if we develop this sensitivity to our own expressions, by not resisting or fighting our own rising rebirth(s): Yet we can ask our questions of this process:
(A CHANGEOVER SKY)
Streaks of pale, gray white light
Strike blindly through cold naked limbs,
striated in bold brush strokes across
the sky of early morning rising,
Seeking to ask questions at different levels.
Dawn is creating a wash of mystery.
A new sky, a changeover sky, a time of
revolution and a beginning of
life in as yet unknown ways.
A stirring of the depths, as they shift and sway,
As if a slumbering giantess of unbelievable
dimensions were awakening at the
bottom of the sea bed, groping
in great ponderous movements as
she lifts her heavy weight from the
deep. She is mindless as yet, has
great strength, and goes by the name
A sea change, a time of year when
All that is at bottom rises to the surface,
Bringing all the deep sea wanderers
Pale in the light, used to the dark,
To be marveled at and picked over
As at the beach after an extraordinary storm.
The sky blushes the delicate pinks of a newborn
infant’s cheeks after the
first flush of inspired shock subsides,
Showing only the blemish of a purple swirl
high up on the face of the borning.
A reminder of an instrument which helped new
Life in its scramble from its place of forming.
A tight squeeze necessitating harsh methods
Not understandable at times to the recipient, but
(From the manuscript:: Diary of a Human Soul Singing to Itself)