Of The Beloved Isabelle Rudolphi


Beware the woman who will not heed thee, for she is impetuous, boundless like the wind, and may ever leave thee and never return.

She who is boundless leaves an imprint in her trail, the imprint of a mirror world where, and as which, things live on, even after they are past, as in an echo more vivid than the original moment. She lives on in dreams.

She who is impetuous may put a tear in your soul, a tear that stands as an ever-reminder of the echo of a life that scarcely saw life, except as the glimmer of a dream more vivid than day and more eternal than time.

She who leaves does not leave completely. She leaves behind a tenuous hold, a streamway of connected attention over which haunting dreams pass, subtle glimmerings and reminders.

If she never returns, the world will traverse a path that will be different than had she remained and allowed the resonance to build,
the flowering of a magnificent harmonic,
mutual magnification and transformation,
an evolutionary upsurge of the creative flow
and the creation of artifacts of life
that live on
to guide attention to free and formless consciousness
and from such, emerge in creative service to the world
enhanced and enhancing
emerging and creating as we went.




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