The State of Grace

I have often watched you relax in the atmosphere we so loved in our times alive together, an atmosphere of gracious plenty, of sound conversation, of friends and willing companions. It is profoundly set into your subconscious – you hardly notice your relaxing body and your gentle mood swing into peace.

But lately you seem to miss the point of why you would be comfortable in the environment of such, and are questioning your own evaluation of what makes you feel good and what was once that is no longer.

Here we are, standing in the very place you once, long ago, reserved for me. I spoke to you of one lifetime in many. Sympathy told me to choose your favorite, but there were many. Laughter was freedom. You took my hand in lives that brought us back to laughter – thus freedom was our gain. In this life, freedom is still the final state of grace I seek for you: freedom from my hardened heart, from the domination I thought was mine, and from the final thought you carry still, of love that hurts rather than heals.

In the state of grace I will for you there is room for finding me again. The way is clear, I point you toward the right conclusions. In the world you inhabit there is always a moment when you turn, expecting me to be at your side smiling, looking for my cup of ale. It is so ingrained, you sometimes blur the edges of time to make the feeling seem the same.

I chose you, you in glee returned my love. We stood as close as two could be. We still do, but from very different realms of Being.

If Time and Form cannot change our vows, what would? Only that you would change for love of me, or I would change for love of you. There is no need for that, in either you or I. So when you sense me near and looking for my ale, I am indeed doing just that, from my place beside you. The see-through happens often where the circumstances are similar.

Would it be right and good for you to pretend to witness me? Of course not, but thinking of me makes your body relax and your mood to swing around to peace. Then is it purpose you experience, is it novelty of place, is it comfort, is it planning for the future without your notice? It could be, if you so choose to be one who gives the lot away again. You have given so very much away for me. Perhaps you will keep yourself this time around.

The gracious plenty we are conjuring today speaks of places you have already known, and will know again. Is the way to receive that plenty through the sense of comfort you feel, when memory bleeds into your veins? The question now is answered: it is indeed. But if the past is dust, and the future but imagined possibility, when and where shall we meet to engrave the slate with our names? We are love. We have already been inscribing, as we speak aloud of your whims and comforts, or your will to give and power to receive.

Start the moment onward rolling. Is your thought expressed in its finest glory?