Meditations With Intention
Subterranean Searching of Soul
I sit, with my heart directed toward the unseen.
It is not a position,
Rather a posture,
A contemplation
Rooted in Love,
An invitation within the special and sacred spaces.
I entreat,
With adoration-soaked syllables,
As I await
The Voice that thunders in Quiet,
The Power that moves mountains.
I, on my leathered car seat,
Genuflect within.
I bow down with intentionality,
As I feel the rise
Of the Spirit’s Holy Blaze,
Cinders with smoke curled
Like ribbons of incense, or the tide,
Here a moment,
Then within it arises,
Giving cries,
Shallow the next,
Yet still alive.
I wait,
Willingness shown in paused, directed reflections.
I inspect the textured edges of self and Spirit
To understand the awestruck wonder of His Magnificence,
To see Him in me, in you, and in all of us.
There are moments when thought seems absent,
And movement is given leave to perform.
When the stillness comes alive
As if a phantom stepping out of an opera.
When understanding is given in short inspired bursts,
Only to later be disseminated.
There are periods where the prayers and reflections feel torrential,
Where the spigot of flesh is used profusely
To reveal,
To lead,
To imbue
With Truth so pure it radiates Light.
At others, it can be like water in the desert.
The cycles of seasons spanned spiritually as we learn in life,
The lessons of wisdom in both age and youth
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