The Angel Prys

I create my visual art and sit back to think. An energy picks up, was it from the CBD microdose? As the energy flows, I'm reminded of previous musings & conclusion about being perceived by an angel. I write:

It's terrifying simply because you can feel their power. You are not as in control as they are. Simply being perceived by one angel feels like an invisible audience all around you. Like an ant being perceived by a human, taken out of the context of the other ants, who does the ant become? Possibly a slave to the human's will. Possibly entertainment.

I let the energy flow, and breathe. Feeling the energy flow, reminding myself that I am a channel, the energy all goes through me.

IT ALL GOES IN YOU says the angel

IT IS ALL FOR YOU

IT BELONGS TO YOU

FOR YOU CANNOT HOLD ONTO IT

IT ALL FLOWS INTO YOU

IT ALL FLOWS OUT OF YOU

IT REVITALIZES YOU

THIS GIFT

IS FOR YOU

for the Earth--

FOR YOU

IT CHANNELS INTO THE EARTH, YES

BUT TAKE IT ALL

FOR YOU

YOU'RE NOT A TOOL

YOU'RE NOT A SLAVE TO THIS POWER

IT IS FOR YOU

IT IS IN YOU

ANCHOR IT WITHIN YOU

ANCHOR IT IN YOUR BODY

THE GIFT IS FOR YOU

WHEN YOU DO NOT HEAL, YOU DO NOT SERVE

WHEN YOU DO NOT FEEL, YOU DO NOT SERVE

WHEN YOU DO NOT FIGHT, YOU DO NOT SERVE

WHEN YOU FEEL

FEEL HOLY

WITH THIS ACHE OF GRIEF

UNDER OBSERVANCE OF AN ANGEL

YOU ARE THE ANGEL

The angel was prompting me to remember what I felt two years ago, after finally putting it into this visual drawing.

So I write:

she feels like an experiment

she feels like a slave

she feels like a rat in a lab

she wants to be resilient, and is sad for a life lived as a slave

an entire life so far

secretly bending to the will of everyone else

neglected (willingly?)

invisible

since childhood

--silenced--

swallowing my own tongue

to stay safe

choking back my own tears

to please who?

I do not have a lot to say, because what I have to say is art

The truth in the rhyme

Truth in metaphor

Truth in difficult subjects spoken plainly

Terrifies me

So it is hard to spin such a dark sentence as

WE ARE SLAVES

WE ARE BLIND

WE ARE BEHOLDEN TO WALLS WE CANNOT SEE

WE ARE STRAPPED INTO PATTERNS WE KNOW DO NOT ALIGN

WE DO NOT WANT THIS

Threatened by violence every day:

work for money

pay for house

Or be homeless

kicked off the streets

arrested for sleeping under the stars

criminalized for failure

in a society

in which

i simply

exist

To go to school

forgotten by parents

to continue to go to school

forgotten by school

To continue to go to college

forgotten by myself

to continue to work

for low wages

forgotten by school

To continue to work

my body can't keep up

forgotten by work

To remain

as

dying

light

This drawing is who the Rainbow Elk saw

When he found me at the Grand Canyon

When the angels came