I come before you naked, stoned and stabbed
Broken open beyond vulnerability
I stand in front of you as I would a mirror
To see what is reflected back.
A don Quixote exhausted from the final windmill’s surge
I’ve dismounted placing my lance upon the ground
No fight left, no passion, no desire
… and only now it is I hear Gabriel’s horn so crisp, so clear.
It seems so elementary, what I am called to do.
Yet, for a decade it’s all I desired and never transpired.
This vision, this place in space to serve as a beacon
To usher in the christed cosmic consciousness.
A lighthouse beacon into a weary, polluted world
Pulsing fire light, violet flame, transmuting
Calling home the seekers to find
From once they’ve come, for why they came.
Pulsing Beam of Home right here.
And now, that I’ve finally given up on this dream, this vision
It returns from the green pastures, from once it began,
Yet again whispering, beckoning
Now that I’ve relinquished trying to make it happen,
it seems to be happening; quietly and in full.
Each face, each YOU will be here/ there; we shall congregate
This site is to be initiated, activated and imbued/impregnated
This site is the new dawn of living-love grounded
A vibration that has henceforth not been able to anchor or stabilize here.