Madison Meadows Spiritual Blog: A Journey into Mysticism, Dreams, Twin Flames, & Healing

There is a True, above, between, beyond the One or Two. Both One and Two, They are the Three within Whose Love They sing you into being and becoming. It is there I rest from death's demands, from works that turn my face away, and in this ease I breathe in life and, re-turning, hear the Voice I trust, and I am known, am freed, to now and evermore participating  in seeing. Reference~ Eve by WM. Paul Young

Many years went by before Arion dissolved his stubbornness and fears and returned home. Empty now he was like a lute, finely and delicately crafted, open and receptive.  The music his soul would play at the touch of Sapphire's hands would stir the music inside of Arion.  He longed to be played, whimmed, full of sound.  This longing to feel vibrant and alive saturated his heart. Arion knew the symphony and had memorized all the notes.  He realized now it was his masterpiece that he needed to finish. All of Arion's desires desired an opening.  It was Sapphire that had opened him, exposing all his wounds.  It was her greatest gift to him.  Inflicting Arion with the wounds of love healed him of all his other wounds. Now Arion understood that the same cause was also the cure. Arion longed to return home to Sapphire as an open lute- empty with the only desire to be played.

Why must I constantly guess what's on your mind?  Why do you not speak?  Even the lightning speaks to the sky her fury, the rain her pain, the clouds their confusion, the sun his peaceful mind. You are hidden from view, far away from my sight.  Veiled are your words- no form, no sound.  Is this your mystery? Is this the place where I leave my knowingness to find you? The heart knows the way to the Beloved and flies there without feet.  His beauty is my guesswork.

I, the private poet, my audience small but my honor great, I do not seek popularity, fame.  Recognition of my craft would be great, but even that will not satisfy my unsatisfied desire.   Life and death dance in my rhymes.  I articulate this play I have with both. Which is superior: life or death?  In which do I live? Darkness swallows the light of my days and greets me as a lamp- revealing both are fused together. When I part ways with this world into death's grave, will my little lamp surpass the sun?  Will my poetic words have their meaning unraveled?  Will the world then embrace this private poet?

I now understand that as wide as you are, there was no getting around you. And as thick as you are, there was no way through you. Because I trusted you, you penetrated me and I was transformed.  How marvelous! - this field of energy, love, so vast and spacious that I don't know where I begin and you end. You, my teacher, are the means of expansion and my gateway to Eternity.

Quote from an NDE survivor, who struggled to cope with feelings of loss and disappointment that came along with the return to the body: "I have just returned from a pleasant, slow, mile and-a-half jog.  I am sitting in our garden.  Overhead a tree moves gently in a mild, southerly breeze.  Two small children, holding hands, walk down the street absorbed in their own world.  I am glad I am here.  But I know that this marvelous place of evil, pain, and ugliness, is only one of the many realities through which I must travel to distant and unknown destinations." Reference~ The Modern Book of the Dead, Jakob Bohme "We are all prisoners of the outer man." ~Jakob Bohme