Nicole Page-Smith,
2.
In the blue sky of the wind, our Spirit's wind, winds around the air and floats up to the heavenly cosmos, of sky and blue, on a Heaven, so high, to God, that our golden light, is touched. The ceiling is entered. We love the sky. God and gods bring down our golden entry, so we find a heavenly gate on Earth, a gateway to Heaven. God takes the Spirit to him. The starlight reflected on Earth, takes in the heavenly domain, with the crevices of the rock, echoing back, the light of the stars. We are reflected in the sky, for the sky is blue. The grassy plains are dry in the meadow. Under the deer foot, music is heard as they rush, hither and thither, through the wind, with the Sprit of the deer. Have they entered, another, realm, of being or is it, another, Heaven, we are seeing? The sky and the blue, and the heavens, have the Spirits, blow around, in the wind. We move back and forth like the full, fed, wheat meadow, in the wind. Blowing, our Spirit and that, of the deer, travel, on the light of air and we appear to disappear, our light travels forth. We are one with the angels of the air and the glory of night takes us to day. Sun and glory, the light has our spirits, disappear, to Heaven. We are no longer here.
The golden sky is our ceiling but, when, the Sun shines it rains. Our golden place, in Heaven, is high above, the mind. Planets oscillate, in Heaven and circumnavigate, the Sun. We are at the epicenter of the world and the core of our being, knows no other future, than, the heavens, above, where, our planets, reside, with the gods. The Divine life of the world is our cosmology. The air, we breathe, is our Universe and the particles we keep. As an atmosphere of knowing, we love and sleep like deer in the lamb, for deer sleep, of the cosmos. Our communication is the love of sleep and a dream connecting our horns, for the deer's antlers reside, in Heaven. The dreams filter up, in a ray of Divine white light and you see God, communicating, with the clouds. As the gods and the deer connect, with a language of spiritual empathy, to the plants, the light turns golden, in Heaven and the plants appear in a ray of sunshine before rain. The ascension is to inform your love. The heart knows no other colours, than, the Divine and Divine colours, come from the prism of the Sun, a warming of the heart like a Divine ray. All colours, in the garden, are for God, but, the prism of Divine light, shines, to the golden, white light, of the garden. There, amongst the deer, we see the fields, under foot and the ground, there, reflects Heaven, the sky of our ceiling, our God of the known world, for Christ and a love of the field we walk, through. Love, take me through, the garden, of Heaven.
As we walk, hand in hand, with the light of the sky, the sky finds our Heaven. Clouds and sky are our rays of sunshine. We hold a piece of sky, in our hand and this shows us, the happiness, of Heaven, with our Divine pathway, above. Shining, for God, is an ancient tradition and one that shows our true light. Planets and heavens are, of a light, known to man and we see them, with our hearts, above. The heart resides, in Heaven and looks down, on our Earth, where, our true light, lay. As with the plants and our horns of light, with the antler ears, of our deer, golden love has our garden, bask, in the Sun. A delight is the love of the sky and a Divine notice, is written with the language of the Earth. We see the plants and they talk to the planets, love is their communication. As we float with our Spirit heavenly and upwards to God, in our mind, the ceiling is the sky and, the golden light transpires. An inspiration for the heart is Heaven.
Heaven takes you to the hay. The sky is transparent, in May, for the Season, of the hay. Jupiter's time is in May. Mars and Venus are the hay. It is the merry month of May. We frolic and they dance and, the weather is resplendent. There are merry men, in May, for the society, of the hay. We are transparent in May. The sky is blue and shines, all day. Where, clouds are blue, we are green and the star shines, orange, for her. There are plants and gardens and, the sky is all around and, we are the globe, for she, is the world. All is around and merry in the hay, for her birth is in May, for she is the deer and, we are her horns. The antlers of May shed, for the forest flowers, of her, where we leave our horns. The trumpets can be sounded. The tribute worth is our deer. Deer to some are some, to others. There is the society of the deer. Trees of the forest hear her and quiver in her wake. The huntress is near. The Earth spins on her globe and a pattern acquires the evening stars. Night is near. The appearance is near, of the deer, of her merry month, of May. We are water, of the rivers, for her, where, fish of the sea, travel North. Our hay is the rock, of May. We are for the Season of the hay.
Our golden life takes us to God. In the land of God, you are Spirit and your Spirit is seen. Your communication with the cosmos is pure Spirit and our energy radiates to God. The life of Heaven is a star path with the planets seen as your life. The planets are your Spirit and our body is for the life of the gods. In Heaven we are plants of the seed and the ephemeral Earth and, all her creatures who transpire, they go through the cycle of life and, provide life with their cycle. The organic cycle of life is our home, for God and we become Earth, there, and, Spirit on the land that gives shelter. The shelter is the sky and the land, our hay, is the Earth. We walk on the grassy meadow in the Summer, of the hay and are Spirit for her, the wind of May, with sometimes just a gentle breeze, to take our love to the golden ceiling, of Heaven. When the night turns to day, we are Earth and when, the sky night talks to the heavenly, abode, we are Earth for her, too. The gods are the planets. The calendar, we reflect, is for the merry month of May.
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