You are beautiful forever--

the core of who you are..
still  wholly uncorrupted,
is made in the very image of God--

It is intertwined with your flesh
so that your flesh may become healed.

But your flesh is immersed in
the stupidity, placed there by others,  not you.
But you are the one that still  chooses
to believe its ******-up message--

The one that says   it will not work
or that   it's all too much
or that   no one cares, anyways

or that  you are not worthy
             of the magic that is in you.

The relational part of your own  healing
that already exists  within you
will come to you from those
who love you enough
to want to tell you the truth--

That the message your traumatized flesh, carries
is nowhere near the truth,  but instead
is immersed inside of the lie.
I tell you the truth, in response to your
acknowledgement of my faith in you
and you respond by treating me as if
you have no value for me whatsoever.

What tells you inside of yourself
to respond that way?

So, I make a play for you again,
not to make you mine..

  but to remind you of who you truly are.

All of the healing you will ever need
is already inside of you..  through the
Image-bearing nature  of the very core
of who you are.  Its deep ache  to permeate
your broken flesh  is held at bay
by Love's beautiful choice to  yield
to your own freedom of autonomy

Because love, without freedom
is not love at all--

but only control.. with a smile.

I weather your storms
because not even your own  lack of
believing in yourself  will ever
stop  me from believing in you.

--And yes.. you are at times difficult--
sometimes to such a degree,  that the dream
you actually are to me..  at those times

can feel to me as if instead,
like a bad nightmare..

But that is only the stupidity, of your flesh
and your own temporary stupidity  of actually
believing  that,  in itself..   as if  to be life..

 and as if  to be you.

You are my beautiful,  forever
that will never, ever  change.
One day  you will see, beautiful girl.

I know that one day,  you will see

Forgiveness is
as forgiveness  does

and I have fallen  short
of breaking through
this family thing
this family, fling

This family hold
from days,  of old

This family-fed,
smiling, waving
****-pocket, (in)bred
Head-in-the-sand
adrenal gland
Death-bonded hold
this fungus-laced mold
holding you down
by your choice to choose
Nothing, but them

And out of the ashes
reaches up a hand
that strangles the mother-******..
aptly called

because  his ******* of
your mother..   his daughter,

groomed her
to bathe her pure, firstborn daughter
in order to offer her, back to him
as a living, breathing sacrifice--

Pure.. Holy.. Blameless;
without spot,  or defect   to him,  

     the destroyer of worlds

but mostly,  just yours --
his dearly, dearly Beloved.

As it is brought towards completion
the boat, through my interaction
with it,  out on the lake
will then make possible  the access
to fish that I,  up till now
have only dreamt of

The fish  are the fire..   descended
down  from the heavenlies--
made available  solely
through the fineries..   restored
back in to  wholeness  in part
through the value I first saw in it
when in its primitive, used and
unfairly treated and uncared for, form..

But it was the deep love for that form
that helped give the vessel its access
back into the restoration  of its
own,  true glory..

And now,  all alone--  
out on the lake with it
it brings me access  in to
places and magical depths  until now
only thought of  and dreamt about
as that which exists  only, in heaven..

It is the vessel's motor,  now fully restored
that brings the boat and I  together
out on to the lake
but it is the boat's very  uniqueness
within it's own  natural state of beauty
that helps to give me access  into the magic
that lay currently undisturbed
deep in that glorious lake's depths

The boat has always carried within it
the rarest of gifts
and somewhere buried in my   deep
love for it..  those gifts, while out on
the lake  with it, will make themselves  known
to me  as we together find those fish
that so beautifully represent,  this..

the Holiest of all fires.

Those trophy fish are the magical moments
that up until now, lay dormant,
swimming far away from current distractions  
of the every day, mundane
accessible only  through the restorative process
and one's love of it's rare and magical beauty

It sometimes feels as if all of heaven is
waiting. (I know I am insane to talk this way..)

I truly do love that boat.

When I am out on the lake with it,
every difficult moment will be so very
worth it all to me. That is the joy I get
from the giving of myself into it's
much needed and fully deserved, restoration.

.  .  .  .

You will not sit out there,
  so all alone--
weathering, out there  somewhere
in the corner of the shipyard.  If that is
the case, and that is your current fear..
I know that you will find a way to
make yourself find-able by me. The
greatest tragedy of all would be for a
vessel of your unique and rare beauty,
to die off   all alone--

unloved..
scuttled, by the wind.


The energy that was meant for you  is
now,  going into the boat.
  
    --tho I can certainly do both.

Throughout the years,
you have made pictures of yourself
available for us to see

and through a number of them--
have shown unedited,  a clear and
horrendously honest view,  directly
into your deeply-struggling soul--  

and even if you may had just days  
or hours,  previously
conveyed a look of almost carefree
   happiness and beauty..  

Those chosen few  that
graciously gave the glimpse  of how
bad it can so often be for you,  
also.. unbeknownst to you,  

   gave light
of how tremendously valuable
and rare you really are.

And like a dyed-in-the-wool stalker,  
I saved screenshots of the ones  that
moved me to tears

years later..
and they still affect me that way

and in fairness, some the ones  also
to where you were truly glowing  
in all  of your natural beauty..

  on the ying' side
  of the bipolar swing.

You are rare and unique..
so very very one of a kind,
(and I have every right throughout the
years to say that to you here and now)

--that there is a  worth  within every single
part of it all that is wholly beyond measure--
you can feel it sometimes, little beauty
I know there is no way that you cannot.

One day  the ravens will no longer be
able to steal that wholly accurate,
beautiful self-view so easily from you,

..and you will be able to live that
wonderfully-accurate view out,  daily--
having now found it's way down in to
your very, central core..

.  .  .  

Sorry, young love.. I know how much  a
beautiful truth such as this, hurts.
You reveal so much of who you are
through the raw innerworkings  and
conveyances of your poetry and music.

You would not be that so very beautiful way,
if you did not believe that Love would
eventually find a way..

  yes, beauty..  even for you.

When Love's scalpel  comes
towards my beautiful Gloria--

  she leans in to it

What is it that makes  this one
  believe
at such a tremendous  cost
to to herself

and yet, so many others
turn and run..
turn and hide?

I was built-- from the ground,  up
to help  hold ones
such as yourself,  up

as the bright   healing light  
of loves ache

dismantles  the intricacies  of our
once-necessary, life-built  
war machines..

yes, my beauty--
down to the very  core

of  your  foundation,
where you can finally  
have the chance

     to become  rebuilt:

from the ground's  true bedrock,
up

There is a stream
  in our theme,
a  river that flows through us--
that stream is us.

In the stream, whose name is
"All it is that We Are",
there  is a continuity--  
a common ground  
in  everything that the
    stream contains;

    it is ours,
    our substance-- our essence.
    .   .

Place your hand
into your stream
and feel
    who it is that you are,
and know that as you do,
every part    of
what it is that  m o i s t e n s
your arm  

    is that which is of you..
        you are   t a n g i b le.

The stream is yours--
    who.  you.  are.  
ever-flowing, yet tangibly  felt
at any given time.

This stream, also aptly named
"Substance of Being"--    from
beginning to end  contains
    within it
    all of what it is that is yours--

      and yours alone.
      .   .   .    

Jump, beautiful one--
right smack dab  into
the middle of it, and
feel yourself  in its entirety--

        beginning to end,

    yet,
with no beginning that can be seen
and no end.. save the vast sea--  
the  beautiful final destination  
  of all streams.

    .   .   .   .  

  Feel yourself flow in it
  and know it is you--

  bank to bank;
    the stream is you.