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Down from Heaven

So often I write with my eyes closed, waiting. Hands poised over the keys (of my laptop), ready. Heart quiet in restful calm or pounding in passionate inspiration, and Spirit open, willing, questing, seeking, listening, as the words and images come tumbling down. Down from Heaven,down from the sweet, sparkling heavens, down from the clouds of thundering rain, down from the mountaintop, down from the breathless moon and silken skies.

There I am, an open vessel; a cracked vase that cannot hold this rushing flood, yet I can channel it, directed it into the pages of my memory, (and my blog!) As I sit quietly, waiting; or desperately trying to keep up with the rushing torrent, my spirit sings the sweetest tune I have ever heard. And, though I cannot physically hear it, though I cannot listen to the manifestation of music like I do when I connect to my playlists, I hear the serenade as clearly as that faltering music. The melody comes down, Down from Heaven, down from the sweet, sparkling heavens, down from the clouds of glittering glow, down from the bastion towering o’re the rushing ocean’s flow.

Eyes closed, waiting. Heart Quiet, listening. Spirit Willing, Questing. All for the lyrical beauty that spills like an endlessly cascading fall of sparkling water from that inestimably breathtaking Source. Typing, typing as fast as I am able, unconcerned about spelling, punctuation, context, verbiage. I sit in humble wonder as the blessed words pour Down. Down from Heaven. Down from the Sweet, Sparkling heavens. Down from the rainbow of jubilant Promise arching over all of us. Down from the crystal cerulean skies as they weep blessed words, and I am left to cry.

Cry at the beauty expressed through my hands. Weep for the Love, I hope ONE may understand. Cry in joy for the unspeakable gift that raises my life from the darkest rift into which I had fallen for many long years. A rift flooded with unshed tears. Yet now those tears flow down like rain. Down without the crushing pain and they speak in a voice so many can hear, they speak quietly, yet they speak clear. They rush and they flow like the ocean’s roar, like rain falling down in a heavy pour. Down, down, Down From Heaven, Down from the Sweet Sparkling heavens, Down from the Stars that shimmer and glow, Down in a jocund, rejoicing, inexpressible flow into which I am cast, like a fisher of words. And Casting my net, I haul them in to be heard.

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful photograph found at : reinventinglovee.tumblr