The crystal structures that shape

tears of Joy are not the same

as tears of Sorrow;

Peace glides gently through

veins of an uplifted Spirit, a corrected

perception! Virtuous

steps of shedding and unpacking,

ascending on ladders built from

everlasting arithmetics.

Driven consciously by the heart,

as the mind smiles and takes

a break from its usual dance.

No need for measure,

simply present within the

strands of silk,

strengthened by the agreement

to let it be.

Interwoven in the grand matrix of our existence,
is the paradox of Divine Intervention and Free Will.
With the ability to choose,
We create the bitter and the sweet,
interpretations vast, affecting the collective.

Within this web, a strand of familiarity,
alongside an ocean of great mystery.
We remember our family, distinct
by memory, visions, and scent.

We choose to connect,
unraveling the secrets that dance
gracefully just below our noses.
Answers always available,
questions seldom posed.

Opening the door,
a door to another door,
with no walls to support it.

Endless doorways to
an infinite space, needing
not to be “opened” in the first place.

We can always be open,
mindfully.
Authentically visualize a
boundless sea of Everything all at once,
and a thoughtful creation of entryways.

Based on how we choose,
our experiences become molded
and ripple into the choices beside us,
echoing from our brothers and sisters.

The vibration of our Will,
swimming, radiating
through the cosmos,
relocating land we hardly recognize,
but knew all along.

Mama, why does the spider spin its web?
Bright and silver above my head, she twirls her thread.

Baby, the spider is a teacher of yours,
She spins her thread when she sees an open door.
A door for her to enter in,
A door to seek a brand new spin.

She is scary, mama, and crawls all night,
How will I sleep if spider leaves me in a fright?
And why my door –
Couldn’t she go looking for more?

Ah, my child, but this spider is home,
Ask not me, but the spider, what you must be shown.
A spider knows where to cast her net,
And because of this, you mustn’t fret.

I see, but how can I ask her so?
I can ask her questions, but she wouldn’t know!
Talking to a wall, and watching her weave her thread,
She will have nothing to offer from her little head.

Baby, sweet baby, you’ve got it wrong,
And why towards this creature do you feel so strong?
A spider is what a spider will be,
A wise spirit and a blessing indeed!

If the spider is a blessing indeed,
Why does she show me her net where she catches her feed?
I do believe she is here to scare,
But I shall ask her why she’s in my hair.



Miss Spider,
Hello! And how do you do?
Could you tell me why you spin here,
Before you are through?

I figured you wouldn’t,
You can’t even talk!
Only sound that is heard
Is the ticking of my grandfather clock!


Mama, you told me to ask Miss Spider in the night,
Why she spins her thread at such a great height.
Yet she did not respond, and continued to stir,
Silent as the moonlight, her thought never even occurred.

My child, you must not ask and expect her to talk,
Especially as she spins her web, preparing to stalk!
For animals use language that is beyond our own word,
If you are patient and still, her message will be heard.

Mama, I trust you,
But Spider is gone!
Her silvery web is all that remains –
There was no trace of her at dawn.

Ah, but the magic lies within her thread,
She uses her silk so her stories are spread.
Watch as the moon takes over the sky,
The glistening in the web’s great eye!

Stories and thread,
Spider’s blackness has spread.
Tonight I will watch,
And listen as you said.

Go now, child,
And remember your deed,
For to question the web
Is a blessing, indeed!

I think sometimes,
Too much sometimes,
That you will not love me
For being where I am.

And then I find,
too little sometimes,
That I am the one
who must love me now.

But she does this really well,
And that one already has the energy.
My comparison becomes your comparison,
In my mind.
Too often.

Where is this place,
Where I cannot see my own beauty?
My own gifts?
I question what I offer,
And then wonder.

He probably thinks I don't offer anything.
I need words, reassurance, validation.
Where is this place? When was this born?

Spirit, see me and hear me.
Meredith, see you and hear you.

Be Peace. Be Love. Be beauty.
Accept where you are,
And no one can compare you.
This representation is one with all,
Yet unique. Be your gifts and your heart.

Gentle fingertips, electrifying (Just)
the many nerve endings beneath
the Surface of my Skin.

Goosebumps chilling my spine
as kisses are feathers tracing my soul.
Light beings alongside wordless Language,
a dance between composers of a new Dawn.

Balance and fire, water meets wholeness,
Steam settling in the depths of coiled potential,
shifting and rising heartbeats are
patterned as the horizon of the Sun.

I love you, the way you YOU...
The way you do... The way you dance,
The way you move,
The way you YOU,
The way you choose to NOT you,
Is you, and are you,
You are you,
Very thank you.

Your influence is unparalleled.
Your beauty is Divine.
Your scent is sacred.
Your voice is Spirit's love transformed into sound.
It is you who reminds us where we came from.
The infinite ... Where we shall return.
In your Womb, we are nourished and cared for.
In your arms, we are held and protected.
Strong, almighty, gentle (Womb)an.
Thank you, Goddess from before & NOW.