Darren Austin Hall

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WINTRY MUSINGS

 

It is these nights which are my favourite. When the darkness is so barren it seems to bleed mystery. The moonlight finding lover in the snow, shimmering ecstatically in its embrace, making 'magical' a mantra which enchants the weary soul. The frigid wind a menacing force, nature overwhelming the efficiency of the shivering city. We can't move so fast and cars hide in snow banks. We are brought to other considerations as we slow down and notice what was missed in the blur before. Humbling, bringing knees to a clumsy, unrecognized worship, that exposes itself in the surfacing waters of our eyes, wet with wonder.

We shuffle inside to hovel by the hearth of our hearts and remember just how much beauty there is in solitude and company. A vulnerability, beautifully tender, opens us to new forms of warmth much needed to sustain the inner-fire through the wintry wheel. Fires are built and stoked undercovers. In the makeshift embers of deeper dances, cocooning within masterful nights and basking in hot drinks, slowing and lowing to drink the simplicity in our every proclivity.

Laden with luck, moaning with magic-- benevolence reigns, Autumn enthroned it by the lessons of fallen leaves. The colder we get, the more the warmth yearns to be embraced; we spy the torches held in every cell of ourselves. We realize our kisses are tiny fires, that start on our lips, flow through our hearts, and ignite our loins; hovering us, floating, rising to then soar and build sails out of sighs to sustain our highs. We need this love. Just like the air. And we've found it THERE when all seemed most far away, most lost, most dark and doomed. It was like death was the loom, weaving fields of lively light, just like radiant flowers bloom from darkened soil. Voids tend to be quite fertile :)

The guiding realm. The Akashic Field and Records. Universe. Cosmos. There’s a litter of names for IT. And they’ve run rampant in our lives. Consciousness has become contagious. We’re getting sick with freedom, healing in its mastery. Surfers of thought, musicians of subtle fields, magicians by birthright. Each day, each moment a revelry of revision; ancient recognition; harbinger celebration.
There is an ode below the mistletoe that bodes
I can only know you by this kiss that we make grow;
in the living friendship with everything in this moment,
it is so completely, utterly, unmistakably clear---there IS an end to fear.
One kind word can warm three winter months.  ~ Japanese Proverb
In the cluster of communities,
basking in hope and possibilities,
we find the threads of laughter
to dance with the moon, in tune, called by the haunting spells of the loons, where shadow goes to dive into the other side, and we listen to the stories told by the tides.
Did we let go of the nightmare soon enough or is it too late? Eternity yawns and instigates: the trick is, you will never completely know what awaits...truth is a dare, that is everywhere
;)
 
Make your dreams ruthless with wonder. Sing to and with the stars. Make your heart a boomerang and toss it into the galaxy. Just wait for what returns :) Galloping light, brotherhoods and sisterhoods of universal intention with Love as their captivation! The heart is a purpose worthy of many lives.

Good Winter, come and bless us with your keen alchemy and wizardry of enigma; bless and bliss us with the cajoling to sweet rest and the merriment of soul required now as fervent furnace to keep our dreamy love warm and ruddy. Good Winter, we welcome you with your long nights of howling mystery and merciless cold, inducing us to hold each other close, cherish the LIGHT and learn that it is often in the most dreary of dark that we truly ignite...