In these times …
OVERWHELM sweeps in like a great, grey gloom — WHOOSH — blanketing every inch of your aliveness with her sheltering coat.
Her darkness, descending around you like a suffocating Tule fog. Without a warning bell. Chilling your well-being and obscuring your wayfinding with an immovable stillness. Frozen, frost-covered, you breathe-in motionlessness.
In these times …
OVERWHELM resides as your enduring companion. At your side. At the ready to take you down.
Sometimes, she crashes over you like grand, green waves — a tsunami of surging energy and power. You are jettisoned into that Great Mixer, the one who knows no mercy.
Round and around you go.
Until you are thrust up, once again, onto the sands of refuge — knowing far‑far less about the ‘who’ you once were.
♥♥♥♥♥
In those moments, when you’re locked-up tight in Her arms, you are irrevocably caught. With not a chance, a hope or a prayer of being thrown back onto solid ground.
She has her way with you.
Exhausted and limp as you are, a rag doll, with no option but to allow yourself the surrender of her embrace … expanding and contracting. To and fro you go.
Clash, clang, jangle and twang!! Like a star-flare out of nowhere, you’re on fire! You are FEELING it! You shriek with astonishment …
♡ I am Loved! ♡ I am Safe! ♡ All is Well! ♡
Soulfully spent and full-bodily revivified from lovin’ like you’ve never had it before …
She unclasps her hold, loosening herself away from you. She tip toes to the door.
You mouth a prayer of forgiveness for getting it so very, very wrong.
She blows you a kiss.
Our lady, OVERWHELM, arrives in stealth … and departs the same way. In Silence.
The sound and fury were yours alone.
She is Fierce Grace.
In these times … and forever more.
Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
Rumi
here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see…
Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding,
the two as beautifully balanced
and coordinated
as bird wings.
Darkness is your candle.
DAWN-DYANNA – YOUR WRITING DISCLOSES MYSTERY—–YOUR WRITING ENVELOPES THE FULLNESS OF REFLECTION—– AND THE HEART HEARS ONLY THE SOUND OF STILLNESSS —OVERWHELMED —-DAWN-DYANNA – YOUR WRITING IS BEAUTIFFUL – FILLS THE SOUL.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
BY EMILY DICKINSON
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
So beautiful. Thank you!
Sending love.