We remain a beacon of light up on the hill, yet we must never let loose the reins of power to those who would be kings or queens. Do not abandon your mighty domain for the fruitless terrain of perverting robber-barons. We together, cannot stand here today, breathing the air of a real, true, manifested destiny, nor feel it rising swiftly through our hearts & minds without the great sacrifices of untold millions of souls just as you and I.
Think about what you want. Think about what you have. Think about what you deserve. The wisdom of many a great sage directs us to be grateful for what we do have and be here now. Nowhere will you find any great thinker admonishing you to relinquish, relent or let the winds of empty promises impale your dreams of a greater longing. By your understanding of your own ultimate authority, which is the source of all power, you will achieve-without the burden of a anxious attachment-that which some call your destiny fulfilled.
Your dreams are the fuel which propels our collective spirit to greater heights. I call this state of being,”Perpetual Blossoming”; a frequency of light so finely tuned into the spiraling universes we have inherited, it is a thrilling euphoria which we call, “a happy sound”.
Will you cave into the blighted whims of nefarious wills, thus shaming you & your ancestors? Then get up and fight the good fight. Who cares how many times you must fall. Rise up & fight the good fight. If you believe we have already lost the battle, you are delusional. Never let them win. Never forget where you come from. Never forget who you are.
AFTER the war was over, and we were certain our truth had triumphed, we returned to the scene of the killing field where we had staggered home from, bloody messes, less than one full moon before. We searched until sunset. Baffled but relieved, there were no casualties to be found.
It was mid-day when we arrived. The clouds were playing ‘tag’ above our heads. The only sounds we heard were the soothing soulful songs of Yellow Orioles. This was all there was left behind after the war was over. It is a new day. William Styron, the great American novelist, says it best in his breathtaking novel, “Sophie’s Choice” (1979), when, as the curtain falls, he says, “It is not judgement day. It is morning, excellent and fair”.