the round table

I never believed in evil until I did because she woke me up inside of me.

Which of these 7 billion bodies living inside their soul would you choose to leave behind?

(what is it like to like a mind?)

Which of these 33 trillion fractals of your Self would you reject?

Your shame? Your rage? Your truth for today? Your insightful inpatient insistent cries? Everything you still don’t know? Your creative curious dejected parts utterly alone still bleeding longing love for all the bees trees and caterpillars? That entire cathedral of masterful manipulation hellbent on being loved? The tender wisdom of all your ages? 

What kind of friend kicks the Lucifer when they’re down?

It’s all or nothing here.

We are at the Round Table seated in the perfect moon light.

The banquet set with the centerpiece of Sovereign Mastery and the of Rose Honey Water Communion hear the rivers of the ancestors flow beneath our feet.

But my back is turned to your back is turned to mine is turned to theirs is turned to ours.

It’s a lonely but sure way, having no One to turn to, not even our Holier Than Though.

There’s no way out when the only way is right.

Exaltation of polarity will prove that the banquet of Grace is prepared inside of me.

That God is only whole when I find the eyes of my kindred enemy.

This is Life.

No One gets out alive.

No One gets out right.

This is My Life.

No One gets left behind.

Do you believe in me? Because I believe in all of you.

here is my service, turning rage to words.

faye wylder, harvest 2020