Center Heart
A spiritual journey from divine light to earthly existence, exploring the soul's transformation through incarnation.
Center Heart Long Poem
At peace with God, I am light-ray frequencies without a body.
There is life down below my pearl, physical rod.
Men and women making love moved me to grow, move, and prod in heaven.
I think my soul wants something mod.
I want a body.
He let out a big, juicy wad.
I traveled through the sun's star rays, a ray of light entering the cells of the sperm, flagellating with a supersonic tailspin to burst into the egg within a body.
The explosion is magical.
My soul will flag and go.
Mod?
She is a runway model, a sales representative.
My first love.
My womb.
My mama.
My first home.
My soul left heaven to enter the body, the womb, the tomb.
I died to heaven today—now physical.
I want to grow, to read books, and be quizzical.
She is reading the Bible, starting with the truth.
My mum, my virgin light in a physical tomb, from the intelligence of heaven to become physically dumb.
To leave heaven and become physical is to say yes to sacrifice, to become limited.
Yet naïve.
Yet not knowing.
Yet with a soul that longs to know.
There is a central intelligence, light entering forth.
They take me, this growing egg, to see if I am forming a leg.
Her belly is growing.
Me, under a slide, growing.
They took me out.
I grow so stout.
What was left in her belly, growing so big?
A healthy baby.
Yet me, at the same time, beneath a microscope on a slide, under the light of a scientist, and yet also in the womb.
They taught me parallel reality, already marking a divine tomb.
Learning so early.
The tune of the harpsichord, woven from light rays—from the sun's star rays to the womb, to a parallel cell growing beneath the light of a microscope on a slide.
When they grope and force-fed dope, I remembered this in Reiki, past-life regression, and distant healing therapy.
What do I grow to become?
A mission.
