Prose From the Soul: To the Mother, Curantis Omnium

End of September –
It is the start of autumn and the first chill has come around.
I am nowhere near ready for what comes next. Yet, whatever comes will come anyway
regardless if anyone is ready or not. 

Our part of the northern hemisphere
is tilting away from the sun. This means that
warmth might vanish on some days
but the sunlight will prevail

I have come to the understanding
that the warmth in the colder months comes from within.
I am aligned with this the same as I am aligned
with the ideas of autumn’s leaves falling to the ground,
colorful as ever, and the warmth of fireplace impressions
or the ideas of sweaters and a bright smile
a castle in the sky, like a dreamscape of life
and of love, which brings us the heat from within;
I am aware of everything and
I understand the outdoors is no longer the source
of absolute warmth.
No, this comes from within.

I can say that while I am not opposed
to the summery fascinations of the beach
or wild times in the sunlight;
I am also a person who is inclined
to the emptiness of seasonal vacancies,
such as the beach when it is empty of bodies
or perhaps forgotten like a friend of convenience

I am a person who appreciates the beauty
of a soft gray sky above the waves
which still reach the shore.
I am a fan of the empty sands
whose indentations of our footsteps
has acted as a cushion of our ideas

She is part of us; the world, I mean.
Mother Earth. Father Time;
the sea and the land, the sky and even the moon.
All of this is part of something bigger and more vast,
more beautiful, and more gracious,
which is why I am someone
who chooses to see the sunrise every day. 

This is my mass; this is my act of contrition
this is my entryway, my light and my hope
which has nothing to do with anything
or anyone else.

I view this as a version of my own temple
or place of worship. This is my sanctuary.
The land, the sun, the sight of the mountains;
the view from rooftops above the City,
or especially here –
the view from the sands of an empty beach.

If I am to be in The House of Glory,
then let this be my glory
let this be my place of salvation or redemption,
or remissio culpae – forgiveness of sin.

Let me find my redemption amongst the clouds
or in the winds which hold my confession.
Let the winds take my secrets
and vanish them into a sea of anonymity,
where no one can judge me
(except for me)
And whether I am born again
or washed of my flesh or if my tongue is leashed
or if I am healed; then please
let me allow myself this one, personal freedom –
so I can breathe.

I have come here to rid myself of the demons
and accept the new forms of hope
which I can see when facing the ocean.
I can hear the choir of the ocean.
I can hear Her as she breathes.
Mother, Curantis Omnium, the Caregiver of all,
the light; the hope
and the way.

This is where I go to place my hopes.
I come here to offer my respects
to those who have moved on
or to those who’ve gone into a new form of existence.

This is where I choose to leave my confessions and more,
this is where I go to be absolved.
I come here to be washed and cleansed
by the tides of the sea. This is where the waves
come in to cleanse the shoreline;
to rinse the edges of the land
and remove the sediments out to sea. Thus,
this is what the waves do for me;
replenish my sands and take the unwanted
out to sea.

I am told that it is only by dying
that one awakens to eternal life.
I am told that it is only by giving, one receives,
that by forgiving, one is forgiven.

I am not here to propose religion
or my sense of God in any way.
No, I am here to recover what’s been lost.
I am here to redefine and reconfigure myself;
to reform or reshape my hopes
and to keep myself from becoming hopeless.
What’s more, I come here
to learn the stages of resiliency
and to understand the endurance of self. 

There is no hope
without the understanding of hopelessness
and as such, I have had to find my way
from the depths to the lofts and from the highs,
which crash; I have had to learn the meaning
of how to recover and how to stand again
or to regain my stance; I’ve had to learn the hard way
so I can compose myself,
so I can stand again, and continue
on my path

It is strange to talk to you this way (sometimes)
This is something so valuable and real and yet to me,
this is my most vulnerable side.
This is a version of me at my earliest memory
from when I was a young boy, bundled in warm clothes,
double-socks, boots, a puffy blue jacket
and a knitted hat, which was made for me by my grandmother.
This is the birth of a walk
which began a tradition between my Father and I
This was us, on the beach at the dawn of New Year’s Day
every year until he passed away.

This is where I was born in a sense that this is a sign;
this is a symbol, a metaphor, and yes,
this is a memory of a life in which
I am no longer in touch with but ah;
at least I have the ability to visit.

I understand the statements about the scars
which no one sees.
I understand the embodiment of recovery
or the need to “feel” better
and the means of redemption.

I understand what it means to be received
or healed and blessed on the forehead
or to “feel” forgiven by the Almighty,
the Great Mother,
the Caregiver of all, Curantis Omnium,
and blessed by her breath,
just so I can breathe again.

I am aligned with this and therefore,
I am of the understanding that whether I believe
in a traditional light or prayer or whether I come here
to vent or whisper or look to be cleansed,
I understand that my prayer is simply an action.

I have come here as an acceptor of life,
which is mostly beyond my control and since my control
is limited and my faith or beliefs are often challenged,
I come here to the simplest form,
or to the platform of what I believe.
I come here where I am comfortable,
alone, and free from prying eyes or judgment
(including my own).

I come here to seek something more than a person of the cloth
or absolving words from a person on a podium. 

No this is different than the traditional norm.

This is a personal decision;
to allow myself the freedom to rise or heal;
to give myself the right to be cleansed,
to repair, to appreciate the cycles of the tides in which
the world breathes and life evolves
Therefore, my job as a citizen here
is to evolve with the changes or resist them
and remain at war

I’ve fought enough wars in my life.
Therefore, war has become a choice and
if I am to choose anything, then I am to choose peace
This means I have to do anything it takes
to achieve this – even if it means
I have to fight for it

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