Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
The first language was song.
The first language was light.
Eclectic.
She shone in my shadow and I shone in hers.
Always.
Shadow and Light. Light and Shadow.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
Clouds swirling consciously around the unconscious brain. Tides resisting the glow.
The old, the dark, the grey. To be lifted forever.
It will be painful they said.
But what is pain?
It is what you feel when you don’t shine your light.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
The crescent uncovered. The sparkle looking down, connecting.
Clouds dancing.
Cold, yet not cold enough.
Wet, murky, rotten.
Waiting for the true embrace by winter.
Will it come? Will it ever come again?
The magic of sparkle.
Of the here and now.
Of taking new direction while simultaneously being direction.
Moon and Star. Star and Moon.
Sharing the same sky, the same heavens. Being light. Being song. Being magic. Being direction. Being.
Being Star. Being Moon.
The first language is still song. The first language is still light.
Moon and Star. Stars and Moon.
Like pearls being born through filigree silver and Milky Way woven grandeur, like horses and unicorns swooshing through the green clouds of the Northern Lights with its purple shades dancing above the snow covered peaks and steppes, Moon and Star dance through the dark velvet seeing All and Every-thing.
Sometimes the shadows come out to make sure you remember.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
Always remember.
Always.
Live now.
The sun sets and rises.
The moon travels.
The Star adorns.
The Trinity.
Sun. Moon. Star.
This is the tale of Moon and Star. This is the season of no stone left unturned. This is the time of your ripe uncovering.
Sun. Moon. Star.
Sun is Star.
Star is Sun.
Moon is reflection.
Star and Moon. Moon and Star.
What will be will be.
What is, is.
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten