Mother Pearl

Mother Pearl 

She swirls radiant waves through the naves of my Soul

Her sphere holding the empathy of tomorrow

I watched as the yarrow swam to meet pink

I allowed myself to shrink, and to expand, as I demanded less and less

Undressing her bones

Gold shone through the sparks of blue as the hues start to blend

Silver pen threads her words through the colors on the birds feather

Soft heathers and greens sew seams of delight right into my heart

Pearl is an art that started before this breath

A fresh water surprise through the eyes of man

Pearl can transform your intuition into sight

A tight formation in her gradiation

Blacked lipped nucleation

Dream station

Many of crustaceans have tried to make Pearl their home

Mother Ohm and her tone feels like an angels song

… She has been here all along

Pearl needs no tongs to pry open her lips

She can dip in and out of reality blending dualites in her brine

The way she shines… aligns my breath with Spirit so that I can hear 

IT

Without the filter of salt in thy wound

Silver moon

Belly of Baboon

Soon our worlds will be with Son

Mother of One

I have come to sit with you again

Tahitian ocean is the motion of now

Allowing myself this moment of deep clarity and innerstanding

(less and less demanding)

I am standing… on her shore

Iron and Ore, releasing more and stepping into the now

Mother

Allow

Stillness is how we maintain our composure

As we receive more and more exposure to our light, Pearl might be the wisdom to be held. I feel her swell in the notion that her oceans are safe. I feel her breath drape my essence with her essence, my presence becomes fluid like her water. 

Sacred Daughter

Liquid Potter

I caught her just in time

Trine

To thine own self

Be

True

Mother, I miss you

I would kiss you over and over a trillion times if I could

I lain your pearls on the wood of my alter and just when I think to falter I call upon your wisdom to reignite this flame

Mother you named me Morning of thy Star for reason 

It would be treason not to honor the name

My tears have rained lifetimes waiting for the right time to be seen

Mother beam

Conscious stream of creative flow

Slow

Consistently fluid

Druid

Heart

Natures Art

I will stop and start again as many times as needed

Pearl has seeded, and what I thought I needed… never was… ever again

Mother of

Shem

Aumen

…

HMG