Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high.
Still I’ll rise. Still I Rise.
~ Maya Angelou

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high.
Still I’ll rise. Still I Rise.
~ Maya Angelou
“What if the path
Disappeared under your feet
Then you’ll fly
There is no path in the sky
A path to the caterpillar
Is nothing to the butterfly”
Poem from @JustStillness
“And I will write upon him the name of my God.”
“And I will write upon him my NEW NAME.”
—Revelation 3 : 12
Man struggling up to the sunlight,
Up from the mire and clay,
Fighting through wars and jungles,
And sometimes learning to pray
And sometimes a king with a scepter,
And sometimes a slave with a hod
—
Some people call it Karma,
And others call it God.
A beggar ragged and hungry,
A prince in purple and gold,
A palace gilded and garnished,
A cottage humble and old
—
One’s hopes are blighted in blooming,
One gathers the ripened pod
—
Some call it Fate or Destiny,
And others call it God.
Glimmering waters and breakers,
Far on the horizon’s rim,
White sails and sea gulls glinting
Away till the sight grows dim,
And shells spirit-painted with glory,
Where seaweeds beckon and nod
—
Some people call it Ocean,
And others call it God.
Cathedrals and domes uplifting,
Spires pointing up to the sun,
Images, altars and arches,
Where kneeling and penance are done
—
From organs grand anthems are swelling,
Where the true and faithful plod
—
Some call it Superstition,
While others call it God.
Visions of beauty and splendor,
Forms of
a long-lost race.
Sounds and faces and voices,
From the fourth dimension of space
—
And on through the universe boundless,
Our thoughts go lightning shod
—
Some call it Imagination,
And others call it God.
Acids and alkalis acting,
Proceeding and acting again,
Operating, transmuting, fomenting,
In throes and spasms of pain
—
Uniting, reacting, creating,
Like souls “passing under the rod”
—
Some people call it Chemistry,
And others call it God.
Vibration of Etheric Substance,
Causing light through regions of Space.
A girdle of Something, enfolding
And binding together the race
—
And words without wires transmitted,
“Ariel”-winged, spirit-sandaled and shod
—
Some call it Electricity,
And others call it God.
The touch of angel fingers
On strings of the human soul.
Anguish and ripples of laughter
Written across its scroll.
Chords from the holy of holies
From sunrise sky to the sod
—
Some people call it music,
And others call it God.
Earth redeemed and made glorious,
Lighted by Heaven within;
Men and angels face to face,
With never
a thought of sin
—
Lion and lamb together
In flowers that sweeten the sod
—
Some of us call it Brotherhood,
And others call it God.
And now the sixth sense is opened,
The seventh embraces the whole,
And, clothed with the Oneness of Love,
We reach the long-sought goal
—
And in all Life’s phases and changes,
And along all the paths to be trod,
We recognize only one power
—
One present, Omnipotent God.
Source:
http://iapsop.com/ssoc/1918__carey___wonders_of_the_human_body.pdf
Page 70, 71, 72
If I show you my heart
Will you know what that means?
If I tell you the truth Will you still hold my gaze?
If I own all the parts that society shuns
Will you shun me too?
Would you choose to let me walk this path
Without you?
Or will you laugh that wild laugh,
Roar from your knees,
Dance like the wind
Strip like the trees
Will you throw out the lies
And the fear of ‘too much’
And redefine ‘sisters’
Beside me…
~ by Clare Dubois, Founder of TreeSisters
https://treesisters.org/
~ By Clare Dubois, Founder of TreeSisters
www.TreeSisters.org/give
How do I know
Who I am
When all I have been taught
Is who to be
According to rules
That belong to a past
That believed in the domination
Of nature
As a path to power.
How do I know
Who to be
When the judgment that gets thrown
Arises from a fear so old
That no one even knows
Why it’s wrong
To shine
Or show pleasure
As a woman.
Why would I stay
Cooped up in a cage
Of shoulds and oughts
When this body
Is crafted from moonlight
And fire
And the deeper river
Of ancient knowing
Guides my every felt sense
Of what it means
To be a woman.
So I stand
Shameless bright
My heart open wide
Wild crafted pleasure
And mountainous might
I define myself
As I set myself free
And I laugh out loud
As I birth a new me
For all women.
“She was beautifully out of place.
Sometimes,
I believe she intended to be…
Like the Moon
during the day.”
~D.R.
She lost herself in the trees
among the ever-changing leaves.
She wept beneath the wild sky
as stars told stories of ancient times.
The flowers grew towards her light,
the river called her name at night.
She could not live an ordinary life
with the mysteries of the universe
hidden in her eyes.
~ Christy Ann Martine
🌎🌳 http://www.treesisters.org 🌎🌳