Words From A Borning World. . . .

(from a recent journal entry edited only for space)

So there was no one to talk to.  No one who understood the worlds I trespassed nor was welcomed in.  I stayed.  And took cover in what I had to do which left me open mouthed every time I heard something that belly whopped me with I cannot believe they said that!  Cannot believe!

And I never learned to talk on my feet even to this day.  I listen and give the speaker their time and think about what I coulda, shoulda said.  But could not, did not because I do not talk on my feet.  I need to think.  And I can only do one thing at a time.

So I have listened.  There have been a handful of good friends.  Heart friends who said I was a deep thinker.  I did not know what a deep thinker was.  What is a deep thinker?  One who listens  to the silent voice within,  the Comforter within,  the still small voice within,  the thoughts which come from a somewhere else destined for you?  Because no person  wants to talk to you?

And when my thoughts because I think them,  originate with me  I take  to the wall and bang my head there,  I find matched by thoughts from an elsewhere world, I know I have come home to another some place.

I was thinking this morning,  sitting in the dining room and looking out in the yard,  that what if I wrote with my computer what I did in the 2012 journal that there is an  overriding power that undergirds this universe, or universes with the symbol >:____—–:> except there would be curving lines which I cannot do or cannot do with this keyboard but another world took them to be a primitive understanding of a physical world because this is a borning world.

With a small physical brain and said she had something there with this and then put this symbol to work with a higher element of learning,  I would not the teachers said,  recognize the experience as mine  but within the higher learning I could  take comfort that my gleanings would have meaning.

They could take this symbol and say she understood that there was a rumbling thunder that was the beginning that left in its wake what we now know as the heart’s assuagement of a yearning that is the key to understanding somewhat a birth in process of a movement.

What was  thought of as a big bang theory was in reality an assuage of genetic anguish that has kept the earth in turmoil for forever it seemed with no termination.  Giving it a name will eventually terminate it and chasten the ancients’ ancestors’ anguish and continue therefore  a birthing process in movement.  And perhaps the babe in the manger will be allowed to grow to be the adult Christ in our Heart   (Emmanuel. Emmanuel god within )  and evolution will jumpstart itself.

And they will ask again,  give me some of that pipe she is smoking.  I like that mixture.

One response to “Words From A Borning World. . . .”

  1. Your words elude me to talk about them Veronica, but I get a picture and feeling about the rolling thunder and it’s wake and the yearning and what it leads to.

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