10: Spirituality - Oct 2021

Creative Soul

As an inquisitive child, I created magic with brush strokes soaked with colour,
weaved tapestries of binding lines, shape and texture.
I locked life’s essence into paper mirrors, etched through a lens.
I sculpted beasts and curious castles that came alive in an unlimited mind.

Child’s play was my gift from the gods; an endless ocean of possibility that I was cleansed in.
Anointed their instrument, I made music with splats and scratches, fingers and fibres.

Did I choose the path of the creative soul or was I enchanted by the rulers of the heavens?
What I do know is that my blood is laced with paint, my mind full of sparks and
my eyes draw in wonder.
I am compelled to bring beauty and meaning, to question and teach, cast spells in the chaos
to honour the stars; offerings to my makers as they wink for eternity.

When I cease to wake, will I pass the test or freefall to oblivion?
Will my legacy be worthy?
Will it be told?

Whoever is my reckoner be they wise and old, I will stand proud and stare at their all seeing eyes and thank them for their gift.
That I was able to channel their energy, carve fantastical visions to let minds wander and wish away the hours.
To enjoy the joy of being present in the moment, where bountiful Gaia cradles us close and we feel the pulse of existence in balanced vibration, at one with the world before we drift the cosmos.

When that time comes, I will hold fast and speak my truth, that my path was both beautiful and bold, that my guiding breath blew my inquisitive sails around a lucid landscape, blossomed with ambrosia and paved with gold.

I’ll testify that my life was filled with conjured emotions; sometimes questioning, sometimes blissful, sometimes spiralling, sometimes bountiful, sometimes fearful and sometimes fearless with the freedom of my own direction and  unique expression.
That I was a cup half full, bubbling with positivity, brimming with inspiration, clasped with compassion and always stirred with love.

I wonder, Is this all just wishful thinking or was it foretold in a sign from above?

-Jason Conway

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