RootSTALK
rootsTALK
beef stock
a stocking stuffer
"stock the shelves," oh lowly slave
for the shares of the stock market are rising
there's jack on the bean stalk, it's a popular tale
only where is jack climbing to?
I plant my seeds where stalks of flowers grow
I stalk like a cat prowling in the night
"What is this stalking vibration?" I keep asking.
"It's okay," she says of this energy.
"You need to soften," he says, through her.
And, I overhear myself being dogmatic, black and white,
about tools that are meant to be used as a simple map.
After all, there is no such thing as masculine & feminine.
"What am I holding on to?" I wonder, as the Miser shows up in my cards.
"Ah," a quick, inhale in.
"I'm holding on to my LOVE."
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So, I remember my generous heart and its primal desire to pour my affection upon my twin flame. I listen, once more, to the Universe's call; there's a destiny awaiting to unfold. Only it requires my action, my claiming my courageous counterpart, my speaking into what was already decreed millennium-ago.
"Ours was written in the stars."
This melody cannot be chained.
This rhythm cannot be stilled.
For now I must sing, and I'm willing to whistle and to wait, to bend and to sway, to bow and to follow, to submit and to surrender.
It's already in me to do so, I simply had years of peeling back to do.
The labyrinth of my Temple begs an entrance.
Armed with a clearer image of what I'm looking for,
I go back to my wild ways.
Riding high above the grass,
eyes sharp and on the look out.
Now, in tune and aligned, I am again stalking forward - ready to pounce when the timing is right, SOFTLY.
