Saturday, December 25, 2010

The Blade and the Holy Grail

Our souls marched down

into the 3rd Dimension

spreading the light

as thin as was possible with

much dark between each light sparkle.

We carried our swords, our blades

to carve the dense fear

into bite sized pieces.

We’ve carried that blade

to carve our protection

and equally our power

for millenniums.

And now,

as we march back towards

a world where the

light dark balance is so different,

we lay down our swords,

the blades of the 3rd dimension,

to accept the chalice

of the 5th dimension.

We move to accept the chalice,

the holy grail, full of liquid light

that is ourselves.

Ourselves as co-creators,

unafraid of our reality and seeking

collaboration and cooperation

of being one with all

in Unity.

We turn our back on fear

and face the light

radiating from within us

and march in the direction

of change, into the holy grail.

It is the new day

of a new year

and a very different millennium.

If we choose that.

Merry Christmas today

and every day.

Lizette Estelle Stiehr

December 25, 2010

(inspired Deane GeMMell’s channeling of the Guardians through Saga-Oracle, in December, 2010 Sedona Journal, on P. 110)


Day of Grace

The water is on for coffee.

I open the front door for the newspaper

expecting the single digit cold.

And see, unexpectedly,

a brand new blanket

of fresh, reflective snow

under the bright moon.

Grace – an unexpected

blessing from heaven.

The surprise is shocking,

not from the cold,

but the lightness, the beauty.

The black and white world

all soft curves.

My little back Ion car

is an abstract of black lines

connecting large patches of white.

I am lifted by the beauty,

graced by the contrast,

frozen by the moment.

Graces releases all

“to do” thoughts of the day.

I stand and absorb

the silence in the morning peace.

I am graced by this day,

by the gentle snow

and the reflected lightness.

Thank you.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Sunrise at the Cabin

It’s 11:30 am.

The golden liquid sun

has just now spilled

through the trees

to touch the cabin.

The snow appears

to be an even blanket

until the sun

skips across its

rumpled surface.

When “they” made the bed

they forgot to smooth

out the blanket.

How like life.

Our thoughts have

the pattern all

smooth and consistent.

Yet living them,

we consistently

hit the rumpled bumps.

Lizette Estelle Stiehr

December 5, 2010

At Molly and Greggs cabin

In Trapper’s Creek