The first time I heard.
The Goddess of the Vision.
Was in the dark.
Her form, a glimmer against the backdrop.
Of my hunger and my fear.
Her voice.
Was quiet.
But too sharp to ignore.
I lay stuck.
In safety.
The fog too thick to pierce with fragments of desire.
It seemed that with every step forward the ground would shake.
I would scramble back to lands known.
Forgetting the spark that propelled me.
Forgetting the seeds I had been so determined to plant.
I ached to see.
To feel.
To embody.
What it was that I wanted.
But I could not see.
My way.
I could not feel.
The fire.
That I knew was there.
I would sit.
In spirals of lost and wonder.
Hoping that someone would help me.
Push me over the edge.
Or just give me the vision.
Gift wrapped.
And ready to be lived.
Tears of frustration burned my eyes.
I howled pitifully at the stars.
I tossed and turned for hours.
I wished to quit.
I closed my eyes.
It was then that I felt her presence.
It was then that I heard her voice.
I know now that the Goddess does not come when called.
She arrives.
Of her own free will.
When she pleases.
When she thinks.
That someone is ready.
For the ways in which she can truly help.
Her voice washed over me.
Simple words.
Cutting through the gossamer.
That had been woven over me in my stillness.
Lie.
There is no truth in a vision of something that has not come to pass.
Something that is only born of the desire of your being.
Lie.
Tell a story.
Without worry to getting it right.
Lie.
To yourself, if that is what it takes.
To start the fire.
Once again.
Lie.
And let yourself speak.
Of the wants that have no voice.
Let yourself.
Dream.
Even if it does not yet take you where you want to go.
Lie.
So that at the very least.
You rise from the mist.
Lie.
And take the sparks of truth that are woven in.
Let them lead you to what is real.
Discover the inklings as you go.
Lie.
Go grander than you could ever imagine.
Forge plans sure to fail.
Lie.
But do not wait one more moment.
For me to give it all to you.
Wrapped in a perfection that does not exist.
I will give you this spark.
As you can forge the wild rest.
I sat up.
She was gone.
On the nightstand was a candle.
A flame dancing slowly.
It had not been there before.
I picked up the notebook that had been tossed to the side.
Slowly.
With trepidation dancing on my fingertips.
I began to lie.
To tell a story of what was possible.
Of what I didn’t want.
Of what I couldn’t see.
Of what was simply not there.
And in the lies.
There were pieces that set me ablaze.
Pieces that caught my breath and would not let go.
In the lies, there were things I would have never seen.
If I had simply stayed in my quest for a truth.
That only I could make up.
In the lies.
There was the vision.
I had been longing for.
What is the vision you are making up for yourself?
In darkness and density…
With love and fire~
Jo Anna
P.S. The Goddess is one of my Fat Ladies.
I draw them then craft them out of paper.
Some will be for sale soon.
Be on the look out.
The vision I make for myself is... vague enough to be open to how it comes together/ how it looks, with specifics that I need & a few wants.