Sacred Sword

The tongue, a sharp weapon of creation, as are all our organs. Connect by ability to create illness or piecing love. A blade weaved from heart space. Every crossroad of how it is wielded matters. Each step of its power of lash matters. It is a creator, and lays perfectly on the lay line of hearts path. Either ready to sit calm and steady with perfect timing or slice through another's heart, flesh and bone?

Words once thrown, unable to take back. Leaving a gifting mark of their wound. ~Or a message till realisation flows through that no one’s words actually can hold power over you. Just witness medicine of a frequency of where you are on your journey and them on there's, and which you choose to engage upon. Do you cut deep with menace and pain? Or plant seeds to blossom for connection?

The sharpest of blades are timely, mindful, knowledgeable, and aware. They know when to honour ‘clean cut medicine’ or rest. The awakening of truth. Voice a gift of lineage. Dolphin and healing water codes. From one’s own path of reflection and learning. Every word a creator.

How do you choose to create? Weaving from heavenly heart and ownership? Or from a lack of awareness and ones own internal codes of pain?

Do you cut others to feel? Or avoid inwardly the ownership of what rose within that moment?

The Tongue, The Sacred Sword.