Perhaps the sky really is blue,
Behind the white haze of man made clouds.
Perhaps the sprays really are for the benefit of sustaining life.
Maybe I am actually a conspiracy theorist when I see lands burning,
Waters on fire, and the diminishing growth patterns of organic foods.
For all one knows, the ‘rulers’ of this land really do work for ‘us’, and care.
It may be that those who cause suffering on the helpless animals
Only do so because they love humanity so much.
I could be in error when I say that this is all planned
By a sinister people, behind closed doors.
Centuries have gone by in which the tools have been
Re-created, and grand destruction implemented on an unsuspecting world.
Time is a great way to hide evil deeds from newer generations,
One after the next.
Time allows a great forgetting, and a fabrication of story
Which are lies, dressed up to make believe all is well.
Who are these who dwell in the cycle of destruction?
It appears it is all of us, only some know it, others do not.
Some day maybe those who have, for life-time, after life-time, destroyed
And manipulated the masses … some day they will fall.
The cycle, the circle which goes round and round will be broken.
It may be that the true power of the people who live with kindness in heart
Will override the greed for money and power.
Perhaps that day is near.
Underground caves which men who have stolen livelihoods
From working people to build, these must be destroyed.
Rats must have their havens taken,
So they have no where to hide from the destruction they create.
Hiding places for snakes must collapse,
The cycle must end.
Perhaps I am seeing correctly that this will come to pass.
Maybe I am not a conspiracy theorist at all.
Definition of systemic
There seems to be an illness, not only in the bodies and minds of many people, but in the air, in the plant life, in the earth, in the waters.
This illness is promoted and created by a corrupt system which operates on the ill health of everything it touches.
Every system in this country is revolving around sickness and ailment of all kinds, indeed it does what is necessary to see that it births new illness, upon illness.
There needs to be an overhall of ALL systems, for these do not seem to be working.
Justin Baldoni wants to start a dialogue with men about redefining masculinity — to figure out ways to be not just good men but good humans. In a warm, personal talk, he shares his effort to reconcile who he is with who the world tells him a man should be. And he has a challenge for men:
“See if you can use the same qualities that you feel make you a man to go deeper,” Baldoni says. “Your strength, your bravery, your toughness: Are you brave enough to be vulnerable? Are you strong enough to be sensitive? Are you confident enough to listen to the women in your life?”
Two doors opening to star filled skies. You say you’ve never felt like this before. Surely you have, although you may not remember, for you all are like me, and I am like you. Deeply, what affects one affects all.
Gracious gifts we give to each other through our experiences. Knowingly or not, every event that has impact on your life will affect every life around you. People do not even have to be in the same room, the same city, or state, or even county. It is all interconnected, WE are all interconnected.
I see you laughing, I feel your joy, I sense your heartache, your pain. I witness the battle as it is waged and I see you standing, so brave, so strong. I want to be like you, I envision a world where everyone is … fighting for peace and freedom in a new fashion, yet an old one too, reborn into a world of chaos.
I am glad you are here to teach us the ways of peace. I am thrilled to find that these threads belong to me, are present within my being. Even though we are apart, we are near, heart to heart.
Thank you for showing me how it is done. Thank you for teaching me patience. Thank you for steadfastly showing me that perseverance for a cause benefiting all, increases, blossoming and healing.
I am blessed to witness you as you breathe. I am joined to you, our roots entangled through time. As time speeds up, and then slows once more, we arrive at seasons, where we can relax, and know it was all worth it.
Little Packets of poison disguised as food. Tasty treats that kill. Profiteers fill their pockets while the masses swallow tears.
Golden halo, turn a blind eye. Towers topple with barely a sound. Innocence, trusting, not noticing crooked smiles, fraudulent copies of what is good.
Almost doesn’t account for what must be done, for in truth an unwinding of time is on the horizon. Many will be surprised, for they are not paying attention.
Disdain and slander spew from closed minds, compassionate hearts still care. How is it that “chaff” is sprayed into air killing forests, burning.
Story has it a chosen few will be salvaged, saved. Could it have been a mythical tale to prepare us? It’s happening now, believe it or not. Release rigid teachings if you care to see.
The material that is sprayed is a mix of radar-sensitive particles (chaff that is loaded with barium and aluminum) … https://healthimpactnews.com/2015/artificial-clouds-and-geoengineering-pubic-exposed-to-toxic-chemicals/
This “chaff” gets all over, and inside of, everything, it rests in branches of trees, it is absorbed by the soils, it fills the rivers and streams, it is in every body, every living being.
His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his threshing floor. He will gather his wheat into the barn, but the chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire.
Molded into the confines of outlines, growth is stunted. Freedom’s delicate, yet powerful, force contained. Running hard to the end of tether relief is found, release is sought. Pacing.
The living, over yonder, still there? Movement is absent, silence, thoughts run rampant, possible realities dreamed.
Hollow embraced as each melds into the next. The road, no one on it, empty, once overgrown laid bare now.
A loop holding attachments, what if it should break? Single hole becoming vast space, loose, all falling away. Weight of burden disappearing without trace, in a flash, in an instant.
Flipping switches, on and off, become a low flame in the night, giving warmth. The buzz is silenced, all becoming calm.
Smooth waters, silt on bottom, they churn and collect oxygen, bringing life to the living.
Ragged edges, glorified, now the norm. They are chosen over whole, over complete and strong.
Falling, slowly without awareness. Smiling as though it were a pleasure, lost.
Sirens sound, I dare not look, a pretending that all is well. Perhaps it is true and everyone knew before they rang to confirm. Dust collects as time goes by, so far away, evading sight. Age shows in flesh first, in discussion it is rare. Coloring within lines, motto for life, ended in disrepair.
Fan-fare howling, amazed and intent on seeing, heat escapes through the vent. A steady tone sounds, a preparation is at hand. White walls bounce sound, bring it in, put it down. Chiseled features, in a corner of the room, assumptions, guesswork, wasted energy.
Mother breaks bond with child, she knows he must go find his way. She cannot protect him from his fate, his journey. He is hurt, he is angry, she suffers his wrath, and so do others. He must find a way to climb out of this into purpose, into healing. Unease settles into shoulders and floor boards squeak.
Questions and answers both dwell in the mind, meshing the two in time, stillness, quiet observation. Lyrical notes, another language sought, only half of communication known. Singular lengths twisted, stretched, silken threads caressed.
Dreams from another world disrupting breath, silent now. Actions promoted, stillness needed, rest now. Judgments shed, blossoming encouraged, embraced, empowered.
Fossil remains spread at roots absorb toxic waste, a cleaner life at stake. Interconnected, all harmonious union, poison released, replaced, transformed.
Eyes slowly closing, calm settles in. It’s a mind thing, it won’t come back. Racing … hearing … closer now. Gentle hands do not cause alarm, breath recovered, resting, deep wonder, light.