Darlene Stott is a member of the Spiritual Sanctuary.
She gave us incredible pieces which she wrote herself.
We share some of them here, with you.... enjoy.
|PRISTINE The full moon shines silver over pristine snow Blanket of white protects inner workings of creation Silence, so deep, so complete Alone with thoughts Even they quiet their clamor Facing glistening silver silence The blanket is full, soft, untouched by man Sleeping within are springtime jewels, summer blossoms Safely tucked into futures of warmth I stand . . . mesmerized in solitude Not lonely solitude, but presence-filled solitude Awed by unsullied beauty, within and without The unseen path lies ahead . . . Protected, secure, serene, pristine Glistening, glowing white where I have not walked before Breathe air so clear, so cold, so fresh . . . Humanness remembered in clouds of breath, Of journey still to travel . . . I step forward, leaving my footprints in the snow M. Darlene Stott, May 6, 2000|
Like the first moments of life
And developed and changed, growth
From the divine instructions breathed in a sigh long ago.
Seemingly random yet carved by the finest of artisans,
Polished with time
And the touch of loving hands,
Glowing with warmth like the sensual, skin-softness of wood
Permeating, shining, protecting, providing, balancing and shaping
Essence, spirit, life.
It is every curve and sinew, every muscle and every breath.
Seen and spoken, lapped up by the most glad of pink ears,
Giggled in the after-dark, undercover whispers of a child,
Freshening eyes like the soft mist of a fine rain,
Culled in potted bowls of pain,
Thundering across hills under a spring moon.
Omnipresent, always calling, calling, calling softly.
Filling every crevice, within and without…the longing…
How do I say that which cannot be said?
Love…I Love You. I am You. I am Love.
In every way…
Darlene Stott, March 6, 2001
Huge silver-grey wings
Beating the air with the low rumble of humidhot thunder
Shimmeringly covered with the finest silk fur
The shadow meanders across parched earth sheltering it
You soar effortlessly
The eyes of nightcat, redgolden bright from primeval face
Features of the panther-tiger
Grace in flight like the eagle or the hawk
Speed and strength
I feel your protection
Oh beast of lore
Your wings they shelter me and your vision awakens
Why have you come?
Is it to carry me through the drought and to ease my journey?
Comfort and enlighten
Your power seeps
Through me like moonsliver fire in my veins – a stirring
Deep within me
Ah…I am but a child of your long line of warrior kings
Enwombed future queen
Bury my face
Heated silver blanket
In your magnificent coat of undulating silk fur
Child of Love
Carried aloft to find vision, protected through karmic storms
As one we rise up
Synchronous and merged
Our heads held high, we move in the ballet of endless flight
Creatures of vision and love are we, myths no more
Burgeoning reality in motion
Oh mighty Warrior…Love me, teach me, protect me, empower me…
M. Darlene Stott, October 20, 2000
One bead of sweat slowly, painstakingly trickles down your cheek
The air is thick now
Clouds huddle ever closer
The storm’s a brewin’
No breeze at present to carve a path through mired, wretched, stinking air
Back up against the wall
Holding it, supporting it, forcing it to support you
One breath breathing your whole body
Deep, pulsing breaths, every pore fighting
Looming, threatening oppressor
And, you – its captive
Dominating every motion
Furtive shaky eyes gaze heavenward in hopes of a glimpse
Prayer forms as a living creature of light standing before you…
Choose, choose now or walk forever alone
And holds its arms aloft
And so you choose
You throw yourself into the arms of the one savior that can take you out of this putrid place, knowing….knowing with every fiber that everything changes completely with your choice, that you have chosen to leave it all behind, every single thing that has brought you to the stinking wall, collapsing into the blue-white arms of your invocation, set back on your feet to stand tall, and the voice rings out loud in your head, “You have been to the purgatory of your own choosing. You have seen the darkness, the ugliness and smelled the steaming excrement born of your fear. Now…walk tall. You have made the choice and cannot ever go back. Go forward, picking strength like posies along the road sides of your path and do not forget where you have been. And, when you encounter that smell, for you will smell it again, turn to the emanators and shower them with light, standing at their side…then, they will choose…or…not…”
M. Darlene Stott, January 6, 2001
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