i am a misshapen gnome, a lucifer in the fire beside christ, in my empty words nothing is created, little is expressed but doubt and disbelief. i might go on for hours but everything is but the invention of the rational the consort of the irrational which would be preferable for it makes no claim to truth only to the unbelievable. i know not one word i speak can change anything or be anything but sound and noise carried faintly in the wind or be read just before exhaustion closes the eyes. my own self, the one tininess that is here listens to the voice of the mother and each syllable dives into the heart and lodges there, expanding with love and joy and devotion until the frail self surrenders and gushes forth as the truth of blood would attest to the human inside. and in that life ending explosion, the child is born, the heart is healed and love begins to flow like a river and who she is holds me and frees me from the arms of the illusion and the lies of the mind. never have i slept but in her bed, assured of morning and trusting with a heart made pure in her divine giving that is like the river flowing and never ending creating lifetimes of ship builders and boats built and forever grateful to be sailing to her ocean of eternal peace. it is her uncompromising heart, that demands all pretense be put aside and all self manufactured truths be seen as the falsities of pride that bring me to tears and make me realize my petty ways and the gratitude it creates in me sets free the humility and love that i would place at her feet if only to show myself i have finally found the place that is right and i know will always be there for all and i am just one and never more than a face of the divine living 9 billion lives each her child and alone until her light shines within and sets them free to surrender to her unending heart.
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