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IN THE VALLEY {Margarita (͡๏̯͡๏) Soul2Soul}™©

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💖(͡๏̯͡๏)❣ •*¨*•.¸¸ૐ✿ღ (͡๏̯͡๏) ღ✿ૐ¸¸.•*¨*• ❣ (͡๏̯͡๏)💖

Its easy to feel content when we are at our high point on our mountain peak. But we truly discover Self when we are at our lowest depths, in the Valley. It is in our darkest hour that our true mentle is shown. Family, friends, priests, doctors each offer their own brand of partial healing, however, totality of wholeness can only be attained when we go deep within, and in the Silence our Soul befriends our true Self, our Spirit, who then in turn connects with the Source, the Unified Field. Then there, deep in the lowest level of our Valley, is found the the life-giving River which flows through it, where nourishment, cleansing and true healing takes place. We then emerge stronger, healthier, more aware and enlightened than before.

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In~between Seasons

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☆.´ `. ღ  {Margarita (͡๏̯͡๏) soul2soul}™
(͡๏̯͡๏)(͡๏̯͡๏)  ❣ ღ From My Journal ღ ❣
( , , )( , , )   ◆”In~between Seasons”◆
¯** ~ **¯ 
At present in London we are in that “inbetween seasons period”. Winter is turning into Spring.  Today observing  the flowing change of the cycle of nature, this is what came up… (͡๏̯͡๏)

It is a thing of beauty, transition is.
When the dry majestic twig starts to sprout a bloom.
When the first sunray melts a snowflake.
No longer winter, not yet fully spring…
but somewhere in~between seasons.

It is a thing of beauty, transition is.
When the first seed opens its heart to bloom.
When the clouds leave and the sky turns blue.
No longer spring, not yet fully summer…
but somewhere in~between seasons.

It is a thing of beauty, transition is.
When the first leaf falls to the earth.
When the trees start baring their branches.
No longer summer, not yet fully autumn…
but somewhere in~between seasons.

It is a thing of beauty, transition is.
When the sky turns grey and the rain falls.
When the first snow flake magestically falls.
No longer autumn, not yet fully winter …
but somewhere in~between seasons.

It is a thing of beauty, transition is.
When the old dies and the new is born.
When growth flows in the cycle of nature.
No longer the past, not yet fully the future…
but somewhere in~between seasons.

The present moment where creation lives.
It is a thing of beauty, transition is.

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