What glorious sights abound when viewed in the mists around.
Peace in the blanketed air, scenes of the feeling heart, share.
February 3, 2022 — The street light filters through the wood slats of my bedroom shutters in pre-dawn hours. In my bed, I lay, phone in hand (for writing), thinking, yawning, and willing myself to recreate a subconscious scene, the dream I cannot remember but glimpse in its lingering effects, words. I see them in the stillness of shadows, hear by listening to the rhythm of my breath, and feel them snuggling within the cozy warmth of my heart. Scrolling words, like movie credits, boldly white upon a black background, loom large. Battle. Hope. Love.
I quickly begin writing a thought, then suddenly STOP, as if a blanketing mist, alluring and enticingly beckons. Whole-heartedly I follow, eager to find the dream.
Closing my eyes, deeply inhaling and exhaling with calculated breaths, I let my stomach fall backwards into the mattress while my hipbones and ribs reach towards the ceiling. I slowly and deliberately run my fingers across each of those bones, stopping, taking time to feel their shape and size. I rest upon a bone here and there as I travel, as if exploring peaks and valleys of the sometimes rugged and daunting terrain in a quest for understanding.
Upon opening my eyes, an image appears. Initially, like looking into a misty haze, indiscernible shadowy shapes alert the senses with exciting hesitation. As I, with curious excitement, stare into the weather-related fogginess, standing at the edge of desire, feeling warmth filtering through the mistiness that gently touches my skin, willingly submitting to the enveloping peace, I drift into the realm of Mists. Therein truth unveils itself to this appreciative, earnest seeker.
In front of me, yet not in front, facing me though not, stand but do not stand three figures. Their faces, not in shadow, I easily discern. Within the mist, we are together, inseparably connected, side-by-side. I see our faces as when looking in a mirror and recognize, without a doubt, each man on either side of me though one is not a man, yet in His intangibility rests an unmistakable, tangible presence existing with us. Flanking me, like guards, steadfast and sure, encouraging and loved, each, in their distinctive way, moving ahead step-by-step, we venture.
What awaits, two of us know not.
Adventuring experiences, to be sure, entice discovery among the shadows of the hearts.
I reflect upon the days since my last blog post (Life Happens . . . so does Love), well over a month ago. Once I found the courage to publish it, I felt a significant shift, though unable to identify it. Re-reading the verses and thoughts issuing forth like oxygenated blood leading to its posting and many following (only in private writings) since that day, I hibernate into my heart. Bolstered, encouraged, and held steady, aided by two faithful companions, I feel comforting warmth, hope, peace, and love. Drafting any words for publishing, however, does not happen. Holding, as a sacred trust the intimacies of my heart, something akin to a drought of willingness lurks in the blanketing shadowy mist of reluctance.
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February 13, 2022
Today, the weather changes, slowly lifting a few curtaining expressions of thoughts caught in the mist and foaming crests of my heart since declaring love.
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When within my heart, standing still or walking side-by-side with my chosen companions through the mists, my eyesight glimpses beyond the veil of life’s happenings. Finding harmony in the intangibles, I know myself, heart and soul, no longer intangibles, tangible to me in truth, they appear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Memories becoming echoes for dreams,
or dreams borrowing truth from memories;
symbols for reflection?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Have you ever been climbing in the mountains where ultra-fine clouds of mistiness brush your cheeks as you ascend through its enveloping film? Did you stop in awe, reaching a hand into its presence and feel the veiling mist? The delicate touch feels like a whispering dew permeating pores in an unspoken but understandable language to my heart. Gentle water droplets, refreshingly cleansing in the shroud, where obscurity begs; fear not, search your heart and see into the beyond.
In this moment, I breathe, feeling the cool air tickle my nostrils.
Have you ever played in the ocean’s surf, diving headlong or trying to outrun the waves or to capture a handful of bubbling foam? A game of joyous laughter, innocence bathing in nature, where falling holds no fear, exhilarating immersion washes through every pore of my being. Like a mighty wave swelling, rising above its surface, displaying current-churning crests in frothy, bubbling whiteness, images of reality, my heart feels an intimate touch. The airiness of its powering surge, a sacredness joyously effervesces, revealing itself within whitecaps of my heart.
My breathing copies the rhythm of the surf, flowing in and out with the tide. I dive headlong while the eyes of wisdom keep watch. Oh, how I amuse Him and cause Him sighs. He hears my laughter and smiles, feels my tears and wipes them in the friendship of another. Holding my chest, calming my heart, I close my eyes, and a vision unfolds.
A boy and the man
a girl, the woman,
for them, continents depart,
bridge over oceans, their heart,
wherein chambers of rest
a soft pulsating breath,
so sweetly susurrating
in ears, softly echoing.
Do you feel my warming breath brushing across your cheek?
Do you tuck yourself in bed then for my presence seek?
Do you hear my laughter in the pitter-pat of rain?
Do you see my smile twinkling in your mind so plain?
What am I supposed to do with all this emotion causing millions of tiny droplets of misty manifestations? I cannot bottle it, no matter how hard I try. The genie in my heart keeps popping the lid, spilling words not meant for the world to read, and yet they find print. Stillness settles within as I feel their gentleness soaking my skin, infusing my pores with the truth of me and my heart.
My Heart
I see within my heart’s eyes
an image strong and dear
though sometimes when clouds arise
elusive shadows appear.
I hear within my heart’s voice
a languid cadence so sweet,
alluringly serene; my choice,
through shadows, oft enchanted.
I feel within my heart’s beat
a solemn rhythm cresting,
powering echoes, replete,
tears of joy, overflowing.
I touch the peace of heaven
in the mists of earthly life
filling my heart like leaven,
nourishing through joy and strife.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I drift into weather-related fogginess, walking within my earnest desires, feeling warmth filtering through the mistiness gently touching my skin, and willingly submit to the enveloping peace in realms where symbols of my life reveal themselves.
BATTLE: So much uncertainty in the world, but it matters not when each moment becomes the breath of life.
HOPE: I meditate upon the sweet peace that fills my breast, cresting in a surge washing over me where incomprehensible stillness distills upon my soul. Water, be it in whatever form, mist or rain, river or lake, waterfalls or tears, a natural environment for me, provides essential and preparatory, refreshing and cleansing.
LOVE: My healing, contemplative voyage follows a newer course, where I cruise in relatively uncharted waters, shrouded within adventuring mists of time and space. Hope, peace, comforting assurances, encouraging words, and excitement function as both rudder and armour as I voyage through mists, battling currents, tides, winds, and darts of doubt. I witness the incredible beauty of my life begging exploration while living in and through the mists, accompanied on each side, in front and behind, breathing the purpose of my life; love.
When within my heart, standing still or walking side-by-side with my chosen companions through the mists, my eyesight glimpses beyond the veil of life’s happenings. Finding harmony in the intangibles, I know myself, heart and soul, no longer intangibles, tangible to me in truth, they appear.
© Vicki Nicholls February 2022
Life Happens . . . so do Mists
=>How have mists affected your vision, dreams, hopes, and life?
