When the poet warrior breathes life into their storyline.

Seeking heaven and hell on earth. Licking wounds clean in dirty bedsheets.

Orchids lay dormant for years; without love, they’ll never bloom.

Sleep is channeled into waking breaths and broken jars. The butterfly is freed from the wake of imminent death.

And for the first time, we hear the buds of ancient love songs, flowers opening their petals in the smile of sunshine and guitar strings.

We are not empty here, we are born. Again and again and again.

Are you willing to die 10,000 deaths?

It’s the kiss of 1,000 women as the portal of the hands opens to revive the ancestors who cast spells with “hasta”—healing hands.

Children protected and structures built.

The final stone rests and sets atop the pyramid.

Fixed at the apex of love and freedom.

There is big magic waiting in palms of evolutionary nectar.

Along teal sheets of passion, we spread. Anew. Marigolds sing while the trees beat percussion into a song of promise. Lean into Spring—let the wind carry your heart toward a life truly worth living. Fall into marrow red with blood ceremony and let the Equinox shake you awake.

This life wasn’t meant for the dead to walk inside you. No. This life was meant for life to breathe within you.

For you to fly.

For you to dream.

For you to hold your destiny.

For you to know great love within your soul.

Calling you home, where love isn’t an excuse to stay but a verb to try something new.

Walk with grace and stride upon the steps to the epicenter of your heart. Chamber doors open like weather pattern more than stone. And finally, we hear the truth. The absolute truth.

May the earth waking be the reminder that you only receive this one precious life. What will you choose to do?

Happy Spring.

I’m so happy we are finally here.

~