Gods whose
skin color resembles my own. Gods who are as old as the earth and sun and
within nature itself, they find their throne. Never forcing mankind to their
knees, but teaching them to stand as tall as the oldest of trees. Free and wild
like the elements. Primal, primordial, loving and cruel, seemingly without rhyme
or reason but their natural behavior denotes a higher intelligence.
Gods of Dark skin. So reminiscent of the fertile ground that gives birth to nourishment and the sustenance that we require. Sweet mahogany, rich indigos, the deepest of ebony and sun kissed honey, insulating a most ancient, mysterious and primeval fire.
Drinking fresh and natural running water is communion with the divine and all it’s sons and daughters. Thunder and lightning cracking the sky, awakening my heart to the majesty of the living world and reminding me of my humble place in it, opening my eyes.
I am not different than my gods, they are my ancestors because, I am them and they are me. they are within me. Sharing all they know and all they see. With me and through me. Well beyond a trinity, my ancestors, my community and I? We revel in unity.
They do not dwell in a mansion of brick or wood. They do not trouble themselves with ideologies of bad or good. To them, the evolution and continuation of life as well as the inevitability of death has always been accepted and understood.
I’ll give my power to no god who requires me to live on my knees. I will not be forced or told to love a God that does not look like me. I will not be subjugated or enslaved mentally or psychologically, and be bent over by a saviour whose appearance, by all educated accounts, is a testimony of incorrect anthropology and geography.
My blood runs hotter than the molten iron below. My gods from Aiyzan, Damballa to La Sirene and Papa Legba have existed since 4 and a half billion years ago. They teach me that all things evolve, with or without miracles. Life is not material it is, or should have always been, completely and utterly dedicated to the development and evolution of the spiritual.
Dark like the night, tends to be historically more romantic than the day. Dark is the bark from trees that is used to ignite fires to help illuminate one and help one find their way. Dark is the color of space and a still mind, dark is the shade of all that is hidden because it is in the dark that treasures and truth once forbidden is found, in the fullness of time.
Gods whose skin color resembles my own. Gods who are as old as the earth and sun and within nature itself, they find their throne. Never forcing mankind to their knees, but teaching them to stand as tall as the oldest of trees. Free and wild like the elements. Primal, primordial, loving and cruel seemingly without rhyme or reason but their natural behavior denotes a higher intelligence.
Gods of Dark skin. So reminiscent of the fertile ground that gives birth to nourishment and the sustenance that we require. Sweet mahogany, rich indigos, the deepest of ebony and sun kissed honey, insulating a most ancient, mysterious and primeval fire.
Drinking fresh and natural running water is communion with the divine and all it’s sons and daughters. Thunder and lightning cracking the sky, awakening my heart to the majesty of the living world and reminding me of my humble place in it, opening my eyes.
I am not different than my gods, they are my ancestors because, I am them and they are me. they are within me. Sharing all they know and all they see. With me and through me. Well beyond a trinity, my ancestors, my community and I? We revel in unity.
They do not dwell in a mansion of brick or wood. They do not trouble themselves with ideologies of bad or good. To them, the evolution and continuation of life as well as the inevitability of death has always been accepted and understood.
I’ll give my power to no god who requires me to live on my knees. I will not be forced or told to love a God that does not look like me. I will not be subjugated or enslaved mentally or psychologically, and be bent over by a saviour whose appearance, by all educated accounts, is a testimony of incorrect anthropology and geography.
My blood runs hotter than the molten iron below. My gods from Aiyzan, Damballa to La Sirene and Papa Legba have existed since 4 and a half billion years ago. They teach me that all things evolve, with or without miracles. Life is not material it is, or should have always been, completely and utterly dedicated to the development and evolution of the spiritual.
Dark like the night, tends to be historically more romantic than the day. Dark is the bark from trees that is used to ignite fires to help illuminate one and help one find their way. Dark is the color of space and a still mind, dark is the shade of all that is hidden because it is in the dark that treasures and truth once forbidden is found, in the fullness of time.
Gods whose skin color resembles my own. Gods who are as old as the earth and sun and within nature itself, they find their throne. Never forcing mankind to their knees, but teaching them to stand as tall as the oldest of trees. Free and wild like the elements. Primal, primordial, loving and cruel seemingly without rhyme or reason but their natural behavior denotes a higher intelligence.
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