Raeven

Raeven may be understood on some levels as a Christ-figure, but we all carry this Christ-light or nuclear fire within. Yet, as an Ancient One, the burden of bearing this hero/savior archetype can be very great to the psyche while in physical manifestation. The sensitivity to the emotions and energies of other beings is burdensome, especially when surrounded by others in pain. In an effort to avert this anguish, many of these types will turn cynical or even angry. One small slight at any point in their human development may cause a complete shutdown and denial of their memory of their true-self. As humans, you have misunderstood and perverted the message of Christ. He came to teach that you are all God yourself as well, co-creators, beings of light, and that we all carry the mystery of the three in one.

13 JAN 2003
I had THE elf in my head. The one that met me at Beltain in Sarah’s spot a few years ago. He told me his name. I was like, “Matt?” cuz normally only Matt takes over my body and mind like that, but he was like, “No. It’s me.”
“Me who?”
“Raevein.”
“Who is that?”
“The elf, remember,” with images of our meeting.
The rest was not so much words as images.
I was like, “Well, that’s nice, but I want to think about Scott and Jim now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“But darling, if you don’t think of me now, you won’t find me on the otherside.”
“You can find me,” oh powerful one,  “You found me here.”

18 FEB 2010

They told you. They prepared you. They instructed you. They told you what to believe. All the times and seasons, with the breeze that whispered, “I’d die, if only you met my eyes.”  I’ll make it worth your while, top down, wind-blown, sun sparkled, this stroke, for stroke, matching the token in your ghost eyes as you lean over sun-drenched seatbelts on a mountain road to caress my thigh. I’m seeing the Sebring. Can I help it if I am in love with your soul? You are the one who made me. Its moments of perfection that would be exceeded if only you were here, with the top down, exceeding the speed limit, a metaphor for everything else we’d exceeded. The love look locked in our eyes, while you surmise, “It never had to be this way.” If home is where the heart is, why are you so far away? The opera of this nightmare recedes in cherry blossoms, as my heart melts in continual unfolding. Always, you are with me. Never trust a hoe. Don’t trust me. In this fantasy, forget the Grand Am, the Sebring. GM and Chrysler have gone under. Let’s try a ruby red or bumblebee yellow Mustang convertible. It handles so well I take the wicked curves at 85, invisible to the radar eye. You sigh at the firm, yet yielding flesh beneath your fingertips, “Baby, let me drive.” I haven’t come to a good enough point to stop. More than your touch, or even your pervasive spirit presence, I’m getting off on the purr of the motor. My internal combustion power is sunlight, kicked into high gear with forest spirits, nicotine, and techno. Love will set you free. You remain serene. The smile in your eyes I never see means all the world to me. Whatever your heart is into, will you pause and break my heart?

17 FEB 2011

I went to the corner store and there was his graffiti on the counter. I recognized his style/writing/signature. I felt certain it was about me. Like wow, the sacredness of that bond, but after all, I was supposed to have that sort of connection with everyone, it just wasn’t working out. The telepathy. I was trying to decipher the message. Brad and Kevin were there, getting ready to return to Colorado and I was about to tell Shannon I quit. He comes to the corner store. It feels like Washington or Center street in Raytown. He’s trailing lime or apple green energy all around him, mostly behind. My heart expands in blossoming. I’ve been waiting, knowing, and a smile breaks across my face, stormy and ponderous for months prior.

There’s a blizzard, or some other sort of natural disaster, not destructive or especially unusual, but the thing is, all communications are down. Internet, T. V., radio, cell phone, phone… everything. Somehow Brad, Kevin, Ken, Taylor and I know this beforehand and are frantically texting and calling on our cell phones.

I meet Taylor after coming back from Michaels. Communications are off line now, and I am frantic to find Ken, but he’s been up all day without sleep.

“I hope you’re not mad at me if I disappear.”

“No, it’s cool. I get it.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really beat, you know?”

Longing glances are exchanged and I am content knowing there is something inherently holy between us that remains unbroken.

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