Love is a miracle in a realm where we too often squander our gifts. Losing sight of what truly matters, only for fate to sometimes shock us into a state of reeling wakefulness. If we’re lucky enough. Before the spellcraft of state and their wraith-cults puts us to sleep again. Half-light and half-life. But there are things that can break the spell of sleep, even here in this radiant abyss. A brush with death. An act of nature. The care of a new child. And suddenly we reawaken in a different way, a greater way. More cognizant. Made humble and wide-eyed, petty distractions fading in the light of this new wakefulness. We finally recognise that we must become responsible in a far more powerful way. We can no longer wander semi-coherent through the wreckage of our own mistakes. A greater task awaits us. Love is truly a miracle. Beyond shame or tragedy. We all want to believe in the promise of a second chance, don't we? The healing poetry of forgiveness? We often wonder what we might do differently if fairytales were real and we could somehow find our way back to that moment. But what if fairytales were everything we desperately hoped them to be, and more? What if you could indeed go back? Would you love even greater? Would you find strength enough to humble yourself and this time make the right choice? I cannot answer those questions for anyone except myself. But I know things about the Earth that you don't, my beloved ones. Strange, secret things. Ka'shayel is still shaken to his core every time he opens his eyes to the Word.
The angel in me still weeps at our
fallen state. Make no mistake about
that. It still hurts to see all this
hatred and division. Brother raging
against brother, against sister. So far
from the shining ideal we once lived as common path-work. But eventually I came to realise the
truth. I can forgive my mortal brothers
and sisters for their lack of cultivated foresight, their vulnerabilities and
addictions to comfort. For not having
the strength and stamina to save themselves and each other. I love them too much to deny them that grace. But can I ever truly forgive myself for the
same? Dear ones, I’ve seen worlds
shattered and burning. Realm after realm
of brutal revelation. Civilisations
crumbling. There were times when I didn’t
know if I could go through this again.
Reliving the Last Day, over and over.
Accepting my limitations as well as my strengths. Suspended and mirrored in holy breath.
Who am I, really? A poet, an angel, a father? If I truly were a parent what would I want for
my children? I realize now that I squandered
too many gifts before I learned this answer.
I would want to see my children courageous, kind and purposeful – and to
eventually die within sight of their struggles and their joy. When the time comes. Because the human heart still shines. Even here, among these fallen stars. I've seen it. I've witnessed that breath-taking magic. That poetry in motion. The sheer elegance of a soul in service to its
brethren. To not have all the answers,
or all the context, and to leave a lantern nonetheless. I understand it a little better each day. My Father loves me, I think, more than I can
even comprehend. Granting me a second chance. Stepping me from ruin to ruin, ashes to
ashes, until at last I touched down in a world where all is not lost. Where flowers still grow, rivers still run,
and the possibility still exists to be more than a grieving parent or a lost
child. A world where I get to see you
again. I think heaven is saving our
grace each day, despite the darkness and pain we contend with. Our love is still alive in this realm. Like a miracle. I know what that miracle means to me now, my
cherished one. It means I'm going to
keep giving everything I can, trying to treasure every moment. And then, one day, I'm going to close my eyes
at last. In sight of your struggles and