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To: K-list
Recieved: 2004/10/10 15:45
Subject: Re: [K-list] know what you know
From: Terril Starks


On 2004/10/10 15:45, Terril Starks posted thus to the K-list:





Dear Alicia,

Wow,

You are quit the talented poetic story teller.

Love, Light & Peace

Terril
----- Original Message -----
From: "alicia steffes" <aliciasteffesATyahoo.com>
To: "k list" <k-listATKundalini-Gateway.org>
Sent: Saturday, October 09, 2004 8:24 PM
Subject: [K-list] know what you know


>
>
>
> On Sat, 9 Oct 2004 12:52:15 -0700 (PDT), "alicia steffes"
>> said:The story of your own knowing , your own magic and being human.
>> >The hoves pounded the ground keeping time to her beating heart, swerving
>> >around the bend the tears blinded her eyes pursing her dry lips with wet
>> >tears she drank the salt of pain into the womb of her agony ....as she
>> >gripped the reigns of disguise even tighter around her wrists
>> >fortunately .......the path was dry and paved with fellow travelers
>> >hooves, but the air seemed still and quiet , to quiet. The sky painted
>> >itself shadows of rainbow hues stroking her shimmering hair of blame
>> >...ever did she ride so gallantly like a true horsemen a seasoned rider
>> >and then you darted thru the trees in birdlike form hawking at me
>> >incessantly .....jolting up my leg yet I pushed harder with my foot
>> >into the sides of a poor horse the crossroads of time twirped and
>> >croaked along the moat ringing the alarm to wake up by the creeping
>> >conscious merry gold vines I am choked and forced to halt
>> > stopped at a fork in the road, from the boulder layed out before me, a
>> > boulder for firewood eh , a fortnight of refuge, i know,i am tired of
>> > riding
>> > Then , Yes.... as the story goes you burned the boulder.
>> > because.... had you not saw it in the road you would have fallen
>> > perhaps from your horse
>> > so like any good sojourner the deed was done............yet havoc was
>> > insane wasn't it..........you were not suppose to get warmth / avoid
>> > and ride
>> > on..............now thru the night the crackling and popping of the
>> > wood
>> > stirred your sleep and once twice and maybe thrice you jumped up to
>> > guard
>> > yourself from the prowling night voices............the woods embers
>> > smoked and saturated the night smog of which you sucked into deeply
>> > inhaling the single cell parasite .......the wind called inhale the
>> > long
>> > ago spell
>> > for it is your destiny now to learn this
>> > lesson.............. pitiful girl eh? So morning fell upon the morrow
>> > of
>> > her foggy dreams............she etched her name in the sand soot of a
>> > fire cradling its final hours of light...........Ezmeralda .......with
>> > a big long stick she drew the letters one by one sipping her simmering
>> > elegant honey and black tea in a clay cup she had made once along the
>> > red sea of survival the days of hunting , the lost in the forest
>> > searches she remembers with fearless
>> > fondness then ever so careful with red woolen mittens worn in the
>> > fingers but still thee best
>> > twisted yarn this side of the earth she gently places the burnt orange
>> > clay cup upon the few last fire embers.............just inside the
>> > anger of her fire
>> > she glances ever so quickly to see the parched leather tethered paper
>> > inscribed with ancient tongue..........why? from ? it must of been
>> > inside
>> > the log ........she reaches thru the fire scantly catching the hot pain
>> > beguiled by the curious sea of loves warmth she darts a quick move
>> > ...impaling the leather with her stick of compassion she rises to her
>> > feet ....to uphold it from its final fallen ashen day.....now rescued
>> > by future fate she reaches into her heart pocket to pull out a harden
>> > pendant of Crystal unto which she can magnify the words of yesterday
>> > pursed on the piece of leather LETTING GO IS LOVE the wells of
>> > yesterdays full moon tides drip tears of gratitude there was a lengthy
>> > spell bound time to eclipse unto her woven perceptions when she
>> > realized as if the rooster of monotony gave way to a time when she
>> > herself had written the note whilst tangled in the mire of desire
>> > stuffing it into the log cursing her future to be lessons well heeded
>> > and appear only if needed ........> Peace to all, Alicia

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