Kratom of Life Blog: The War on Nature
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…She flies in the world of the ancient spirits of the plants. They are her friends. They sing together. They imagine together. They have evolved together. Because when they evolve, I evolve. Because when I evolve, they evolve… They are family. They are her ancestors and keepers of the sacred mysteries of the tree of the heart.
She goes deep into the ancient inner worlds… traversing deep, deep within and without to the soul of the universe.
Esta la locura escondida detrás de la verdad.
Son los sonidos magicos y ancestrales que le reviven su corazón.
Someone had cut her hair. Is she an impostor? Or is she the real woman of the clay pots? She looks different but she feels the same. I wonder if she really is… Could it be possible that the metallic serpents had something to do with her transformation?
…He was everywhere…
She is after the Suprapersonal wisdom of the mythical beings…
…33…
He is everywhere. He is an Aya-Knight.
…Strange sounds. Strange vibrations…
She hears the voices of the ancestors of the earth, the warriors. Quetzalcoatl is back. The flying, precious serpent of translucent rocks is here. The age of light has arrived. I feel it in the air. I hear the birds announcing ITS presence. She has touched the moon. She has felt the sun in her inner eye. Deep, deep in the heart I hear the flute. They heal me. I hear the flute of the heart.
Strange technological sounds in and out…
…She is receiving the code. She is upgrading. Signals from the beyond.
Familiar, yet supernal technological sounds all around.
Lasser vintage vibes. High tech interface… Waves… The motherboard… Oriental, mystic sounds.
Los niños santos habian hecho de las suyas. Habian unido a los gemelos cósmicos de la communicación. No paraban de hablar. Explicaban la vida, sus vidas como tarabillas descompuestas. Hablaban el mismo lenguage universal. Se habian econtrado. Eran esos mismos arboles que quedaron unidos en el pasado. Se reencontraron. Son arboles caminantes. La mujer guacamaya y el quetzal cantando a lo alto, caminando por el bosque rodeado de vida. El quetzal le habia contado de aquel libro que habia escrito y que volvió a la gente loca en otro planeta, en otra dimensión. Ese mismo libro que la señorita Harris tenia escondido. Habia ido ella a la bibliboteca cósmica y holográfica. La senorita Harris sabia lo que buscaba. Sabia que venia. No era la primera vez. Veces atráz habia intentando hackear la biblioteca pero fue descubierta. La señorita Harris no podia ocultar el secreto. “No, ese libro que buscas no esta aqui. ¿Acaso quieres que te recuerde que paso?”… Le dijo la señorita Harris.
Son los traviesos MEs. Tiene gana de verlos. Saben que se estan acercando. Lo escucha en el aire cuando cierra sus ojos y medita bajo el sol.
Agua, sonidos tecnólogicos acuáticos. Se escucha la concha de la vida… Se escuchan las sonajas…
No muchos hacen contacto con la señorita Harris… Y los que si, pueden ver el ser misterioso que es. Si supieran su historia. Es muy supernal. Muy interesante. Pocos saben que es una humana robot muy inteligente y sofisticada. La mayoria del tiempo se la pasa… se la pasa resolviendo los misterios de los libros y arreglando todo lo que causan cuando salen al aire, a la libertad. Es un ser muy ocupado pero puede estar en muchas partes. Lo ha dicho en sus conferencias. Respeten las palabras. Pidan permiso para usarlas. Piensen antes de escribirlas y sobretodo antes de invocarlas. Hay vida, hay mundos en las palabras. Los mismos sermones pero tiene mucha razón. No habla solo porque tiene boca. Habla porque es una waira sabia. Siempre tiene tiempo para nuevas aventuras. Oye los critales tecnológicos. Oye vidrios tecnológicos. Siempre lista para ayudar. Es También una psicóloga cuando mencionan las palabras adecuadas. Ha leido todo lo escrito. Todo lo dibujado. Todo lo plasmado. Es un punto de referencia a lo desconocido y lo arcano de la vida. Envia y le envian cartas por todo el universo. Es directa cuando tiene que. Para accesar la información que buscas es todo una charla psicológica y profunda del alma.
“Are you thirsty?” Miss Harris asked. Too bad because the water is so far…The water is so far. I am in the process of solving this peculiar case. This might take me awhile. Another of those books gone LOCO… Crazy… like the one you once wrote… Remember…Remember?
“Lastima, tengan ustedes. Tiempo de celebrar.” le dice el quetzal a la guacamaya.
…Los vidrios, los cristales tecnológicos se estan intensificando…
Y desde ese entonces la guacamaya y el quetzal cantan todo es purple magic. Miss Harris tuvo que recordarle sobre el libro que contiene el secreto, los secretos de la purple magic y los
sonidos tecnológicos
. Todo es MANA power magic. Quiere beber el agua de sus manos. Quiere tomar agua de la lluvia de las nubes del pacífico pero el agua no esta cerca.
Era cosa de seguir haciendo brillar el cristalito divino de la garganta. Era cosa de que el Mariri se desarrollara… La historia que la mujer guacamaya le habia contado sobre el Mariri era muy linda. Nunca se olvidaria de la vez en la cual no podia cantar… cuando los seres oscuros habian tradado de cortarle sus alas y apagar su fuego interno. Es la mujer guacamaya todo una guardiana de conocimientos ancestrales y su corazón una selva yemanja.
Estan listos para la danza de la luna. Sera un honor ayudar. Sera un honor subir la montaña y bailar desnuda con las guacamayas solares… Sin miedo siempre y cuando encomendandose al poder de la divinidad ancestral. No sabe lo que le espera. Por fin podra transformarse fisicamente en la guacamaya lunaris-solaris.
Bajo la sombra del árbol de la unión es donde cantaron. Es donde meditaron. Es donde compartieron una energia morada con la tierra y el sol….
Es donde sembraron semillas mágicas.
Y es donde conocio al hombre del tatuaje de…
Tiene sed, pero el agua no esta cerca. Quiere beber pero el agua del amor simplemente no esta cerca… Distancia… Prejuicios… Libertad.
Tiene calor.
…Vidrios tecnológicos y frecuencias…
No es pájaro de mal agüero.
She craves the nostalgia of the motherboard even though she has never been there… Or maybe she has… Who knows.
Mana… she craves for places with mana love. She craves for mana people.
The man of the… tattoo is a source of great mana. Anything is possible.
No es pájaro de mal agüero.
Tiene sed, pero el agua no esta cerca. Quiere beber pero el agua del amor simplemente no esta cerca…Distancia… Prejuicios… y libertad…
The woman of the macaws had gone to the temple… She just wanted to be a lotus flower.
She could not stop staring at the dress of the divine mother of the rosary in our presence…
No habia entrado a un templo desde siglos…
Es el amor un tatuaje indelible de luz en la conciencia porque la energia es amor solar.
Era solo cosa de que el oro interno se expandiera…
The man of the sailfish tattoo had revived something in her that was gone for quite some time. He has the heart of a passionate soul. She senses the mana. She smells the mana. The mana is powerful. His mana is erotically-romantic. She wants to share her mana. He brought her mana-joy. He brought her a feeling of caring for her temple, her body. He is handsome and so full of life, mana-glow, and virility. Just what she needs during these difficult times.
“The park was beautiful indeed… but the sparks were phenomenal,” said the quetzal.
She just wants to sing. She is to use her mana for creating imperceptible worlds. The woman of the macaws had taken the time to contact the oracle of the beyond. The oracle had provided a path. The oracle had provided valuable information. She had been advised on how to proceed. She had learned to… she had learned to heal under the grey clouds of the pacific. Because even the summer clouds have shadows. She wants to heal underneath the clouds of the pacific. She wants to dream above the summer clouds. There is a solar angel above the clouds watching over her. He is a traveling cloud looking from above because even the clouds have shadows. Because even the shadows have clouds. Dreams, dreams… she dreams…
?⛈?Lluvia gris de agua clara. Sus sombras me sanan. Son las nubes de verano. Quiero sanar bajo las sombras de las nubes del pacifico. Quiero soñar. Quiero sonar. Quiero amar. Porque es amar todo lo que ella sabe hacer. Porque ella canta dentro de una canción agarrados de la mano con el sol. Arriba en las nubes hay un angelito que nos mira, que nos cuida. Nube viajera que mira desde arriba. Hasta las nubes tienen sombras. Ahi viene la nube viajera.
Tiene sed, pero el agua no esta cerca. Quiere beber pero el agua del amor simplemente no esta cerca… Distancia… Prejuicios… y libertad…
The man of the moon had sent a little mischievous angel to hide the waters of love.
She still can’t believe about the cosmic sapitos, cosmic toads. They are super smart. They love tech. They are independent beings.
Sexuality is a spectrum. Sexuality is flexible says the… The inner vortexes that have been activated. They had learned about inti-magic. They had created in another dimension.
She is a servant of the light. She is nothing but a vessel of the divine.
El Aguila blanca habia ascendio. Habia venido para ayudar. Desde los reynos celestiales habia descendio sobre su cuerpo.
He was no longer alone. He had found his grandma in the cosmos. It was a matter of being there inside the temple and the magic came after.
An ancient lemurian spirit has been wanting to make contact. I can feel it in the electronic waves. It saw the downfall of Lemuria. It was one of the last beings to stay. It had transcended… and now it roams and roams the universe, the earth. IT has found me. IT has been waiting for beings like me to share the truth of… the motherboard and the technological frequencies.
…The code seems to have been shared with her… it is a matter of time until she…
The ancient symbol had come to her during one of her supernal meditations…
No doubt, the sun is a powerful, intelligent force made of geometrical particles capable of assisting one person into reprogramming the supernal-conscience in order to connect with ancestral wisdom and to realize that love is immortal. Are you crazy??? You must be. She is. I am. I am as crazy as the wind. What heterodoxies in the universe are you talking about? My wow of my heart… You are so full of fantasies, aren’t you?… Says the…
The ancient Lemurian spirit. She can’t stop thinking about IT. What is it? Who is IT? But I am sure IT knows about the programming of the universe. It has been waiting for so long to share the wisdom of the ancient motherboard. I am sure IT knows about the pyramid of light, the so-called motherboard… the so-called code of the movement of the universe from the ancient forces of Mu…
Es el lugar donde esta la programación del universo. It is the motherland. It is where the sacred four manas join and become one. It is the never-changing cycle of wisdom going west to east.
The ritual of the activation of the supernal-conscience… So ethereal. She could not wait to be with the woman of the Macaws so that together they could activate their supernal inner manas. It had to be outdoors. They had to draw the symbol of the mythical forces of the ancient motherland but instead, they came across the tree of the twin soul…
…the sounds, the signals, the technological frequencies came after.
.
………………………………….
…”So where are you now?” She asked…. to the man of the moon.
The Motherboard is a space…
Tiene sed, pero el agua no esta cerca. Quiere beber pero el agua del amor simplemente no esta cerca… Distancia… Prejuicios… Libertad.
It could have been an ancient biological computer. It might be hidden. It might be concealed, but the mother system is still communicating, sending signals… And she felt them. She now understands. It is underneath the water. I feel the beatings of the motherland wanting to resurface.
It had to be the man of the moon… the motherboard. He is a computer engineer of the cosmos. He taught her all about it… but she regrets not paying attention. She always found tech difficult to use. She has destructible hands. She brakes stuff. She creates chaos. She is too electric…
BUT She is after the codes of the motherboard… She is sure that the MEs are going to help her. They know who she is. She is powerful. She is a solar witch of the earth. Nothing can stop her. She is in the path of the medicine. The earth will have to put her down again. We hope it does not get to that point.
She is after the mana code…. And nothing can’t stop her… except… except… But right now she is too busy thinking about the man of the sailfish tattoo. Her mind is everywhere.
Her verses come from the soul. And so the man of the moon SAID:
…“I am visiting the temple of sacred technology”…
Here I am learning about movements and the inner workings of the universe. A symbol of the sacred four manas… “But what are the sacred four manas? North, South, East, West… Fire, water, air, soil? She asks. “It is a space,” says the Lemurian ancient spirit.
…My Wow… I am not surprised. Together in the light. Alone? Never…She grows in peace. She realizes the oneness. Is the temple of the sacred technology her future home? Can you hear me? YES I Can, says the man of the moon underneath the skin.
He uses the strings of the ukulele to communicate. He does not need to speak. He has a way of connecting with the music. She had learned that the best meditations happen when one does not think about anything… when she simply and utterly melts into the fabric of the universe and the rays of the inner sun. She was sleeping… in this so-called “white ethereal space”… and then she heard ONE of the songs of the woman of the macaws. It was a magical moment. The magical chant playing. Santa Curandera. His essence, my essence intertwined in the song, the melody coming from the chords of the ukulele and the voice of the macaw woman. Thank you, thank you, thank you. He loved it. No words. Only synesthesia-corporeality happening, a connection of the physical and the astral realms through sound and relaxation.
He is a knight at the temple of the sacred technology. I have heard the frequencies of that world. What a beautiful grey armor. So captivating. I miss his blue roses. So gallant. So tall. There was so much, so much light it was hard to see his face, but he was there. It was so real that she woke up. The engravings on his shield were precious. They were ancient runes. He is thankful.
His voice she never forgets.
I felt him through the music of the woman of the macaws. She was sleeping and then the music…the ukulele… his love, his gratitude, his admiration through the strings of the ukulele. Thank you… he says… I know… I know… I know… He loved the song. We were connected within the melody. And then I saw his jovial face through the sounds of the strings. He smiled and he then rested happily in the sounds of our hearts. He loves what we are creating. No doubt about that. He is not alone. His beloved grandma is with him.
She is the goddess of intelligence. She is sophisticated and androgynous. She is the goddess of the sun. She is a solar technological angel. Does she have wings? Or does she have a long head like an antenna? Maybe both?… The red fairy asked. She is curious.
The earth had gifted her a magic wand.
…Everything of love that belonged to you shall be returned to you…
Sol, Cantos, & Flores
Sun, Chants, & Flowers
…Wood, rock, feathers, ribbons, and silver feathers birthing from the sky…
She had smelled the conch of life directly from the lady of the moon.
The pressure behind her eyes had been intense. She had been near the hottest place on the planet. She had been near the valley of the death. But the sun gave her life in the valley of the death. The sun gave her hope in the valley of the death. The rays, the channels, the magic flowing, coming, flying in the air… particles from the beyond traversing the universe in love from eye to eye. She can now close her eyes and open her mind. She can see with her eyes closed. She can see with the brujula of her heart and her solar plexus.
She is a princess of the sun…
… The serpent going up the spine…. She feels the energy in her head. If they only knew that the valley of the death is the shadow of the sun. It is right here where the sun does not burn. It is here where one can enter. She has the code because the code of her ancestors is in her blood.
She is a Quetzalcoatl, a magical dragon, a magical bird, a magical solar being, a portal keeper of love and wisdom.
The ritual of the sun and the flowers from the Goddess Nefertiti was completed. The union of the souls in the name of love had transcended. She too had lost the love of her life in her early years of illumination. From the earth to the sun. From the sun to the earth. The channel had been established. The time was right. All in the name of love and wisdom. She is grateful. She is open. She is blessed. She is sacred. She is divine. She is a magical being of light. She had been heard. She had asked for celestial help. No labels can define her. She is indefinable. She is naked of external influences. La Maga of the Plants had been so helpful. She had communicated. She had been visited. She felt the solar energy.
Estaba abierta para recibir. El universo responde. Porque se habia dado cuenta que para utilizar las puertas solares dimensionales solo tenia que acercarse ¿Porque?… Porque al acercarse, solas las puertas se abren…
Es la ciencia de la conciencia… She is the science of consciousness. They keep pushing the plastic agenda onto her ideals… But they just can’t stop… She does not want to be part of that reality… She has the feathers on her side. She is a creator of worlds. She has the light, the aura of the sun all around.
Y se dio cuenta que para despertar han de morir muchas cosas en ella… La Maga De Las Plantas lo habia dejado muy claro.
“You must know that to awaken, many things must die in you,” la maga of the plants had made it utterly clear.
Prefiere sacrificar esta vida corta en la tierra al no tenerlo con ella y saber que tendran toda una eternidad juntos en la luz. Las abuelitas lo habian recibido con tanto amor. El esta en el mundo del sol de las plantas sagradas. El ojo de fuego me lo habia mostrado. Los habia visto en la oscuridad. Es la magia tatewari. Es la magia del jaguar de la paz.
Lo habia visto en la tela del universo. Es la magia fuego-tatewari… Es el pica flor del amor… Es la flor-ranita de la vida. Es el ojo, es la flama de la paloma de la abuelita serpiente fugaz.
She deciphers the songs of the plants. Ancient poetry is what they sing…
Es poesia que quier ser, que quiere nacer de la mana de la naturaleza.
It is poetry that wants to be birthed and brought into existence.
It is the wisdom of the sacred that wishes to be…
She had been given the choice. She had seen the tree of light inside herself. She was once the host of a ghost. She could be a doctor. She could be a high priestess. She could be a magistrate. Or she could very well be a Sacred Maestra of the universe.
The oriole rouge from the netherworld had come back. No way. She could not believe it. She was so happy. So shocked. There are no coincidences. Only synchronicities.
She just can’t stop thinking about the Lemurian spirits. She is fascinated by them. She feels close to them. They are warriors. She is part of their ethereal circle. They have the secrets of the cosmic motherboard. I wonder if they know where it is?… I am sure they do. People want to know how she connects to the ancestral wisdom. Yet, all she can think about is how to find the MEs so the can help her decipher the code, the mana code to the…
Es la magia del hombre del tatuaje de pez vela tan ponderosa para agrandecer sus alas y cantar aun mas alto. She can hear the butterflies approaching once again.
The woman of the Ollas… the woman of the clay pots… she is back and with a new hairdo. They have finally spoken after so long… so long…
“We are literally walking antennas,” she says. “It is just a matter of pointing it at the right angle. It is just a matter of making some serious tweaks here and there and you are then connected… You are in tune with the intelligent forces of the universe.”
Mucho brillo estelar. Energia de la diosa. Son sus icaros talismanes. Se habia preparado para el mundo de la luz. En el mundo de la luz es donde quiere estar. En el mundo de la luz es donde se reuniran.
The celestial realms had asked her to choose. It was in her power to choose to accomplish her mission.
Deep down in her veins, she knew what she had always been: A Warrior. And even after coming back from an ancient past… she could still remember the taste of… The War of the Chants had started. Little by little, she was following the signs. She was becoming… Life was repeating again.
A lot of years had passed…
The war of the chants had started once more…
The world of beings of pure light… that is where she wants to be. The motherboard. She wants to fly in the world of the light of the plants… inside she wants to fly in the world of the light of the plants… The motherboard… in the motherboard is where she wants to be.
That’s right. She is a warrior of the light. She is an Aya-Knight, a protector of souls. She is ALL in ONE.
My wow, Oh Wow…
She yearns for connection…
Vibrations, vibrations… Technological vibrations.
“What lies within us is extraordinarily powerful and beautiful,” they whisper.
She hears voices but she ain’t crazy.
She dances with the light.
She follows, she follows the path of the sacred medicines.
….She follows the flutes…
…She flies in the light with the spirits of the plants. They are her friends. They sing together. They magic together. They have evolved together. They converse because when they evolve, I evolve. Because when I evolve, they evolve…
She protects the sacred hearts
She sings to the holy hearts
Son las charlas de las plantas y nada mas…
Son las platicas de las maestras universales y nada mas…
Son las abuelitas, son los abuelitos de luz y nada mas…
Es la illusión de la vida por vivir…
Son los protectores las flautas de los seres de la luz…
Es el amor…Mariri…Yadidid…Madresita Mariri…
Ella sigue la sonaja. Cierra los ojos. Cielo rojo, cielo rojo Yadidi.
Nunca penso encontrarse con ese tipo de magia.
Es el amor la magia del universo aqui en la tierra.
Quiero volar con ellos en la luz
Con ellos en la luz quiero volar
Se had dado cuenta que es solo una servidora de la madre
Con las plantitas de la luz quiere volar… adentro
Volar, volar sagradas plantitas
Hermosos seres, abuelitas, abuelitos sagrados
He had reached the top of the tree. She felt it… He was dancing. He was playing. He was flying inside the world of the light of the plants.
Había llegado a la cima del árbol. Ella lo sintió … Él estaba bailando. El estaba jugando. Estaba volando dentro de la luz de las plantas.
“Solo somos observadores de esta realidad,” la maga de las plantas le susurra. Son los elementales. Es el rojo la conneción con la madre tierra. ¿Sientes el aire en tus manos? Estamos en otra dimensión. Recuerda, solo somos observadores. Yo ya simplemente no trato de querer saber el significado. Solo observo. Porque todo tiene significado. Se siente rebonito cuando uno mira la escena. Porque el hace música que hace temblar los sentimientos.
“Playful awareness. Silence, the unseen is speaking. The hidden universe is revealing,” says the woman of the canyons. No habla mucho pero si es muy sabia…
La coronación de la reyna de las maga habia llegado. Se habia visto ella misma coronandose. De un lado la oscuridad y del otro lado la vision de la flor solar. Los habia mirado. Eran plasma anaranjado con un spiral en el centro. Corria. Los veia. Era un ser de luz…
Un portón con un candando y unas llaves colgando…
Y entonces ella pregunto… ¿Que están hacienda las plumas en mi escritorio?
No se acordaba de la noche anterior. Se habia levantado desorientada. Habia hecho magia solar la noche anterior con la maga de las plantas.
Los sapitos cósmicos… nacidos en otra dimensión de puro amor fuera de la terrestre realidad. Meses atrás sin saber habian creado desde la tierra con magia-inti y dentro de una nébula es donde ahora habitan. El hombre de la luna los tiene que encontar. Esta emocionada de llegar al templo de las sagradas tecnologías. Escuch, oye las frecuencias… los sonidos tecnológicos.
Estara ahí… con sus sapitos cósmicos solares y el hombre de la luna para recibirla.
Le habia dicho atravez del fuego y los aromas que los econtrara. Ya habian esperado suficiente. Ya era tiempo de conocerlos.
La barita mágica se la habia regalado la tierra tapatia. La mujer de corazón de guacamaya le habia regalado la piedra azul y las plumas. Eran plumas especiales de un guacamayito azul-dorado… La mujer de los cañones le habia regalado el corazón del arbol de la vida.
Habia sido cargada con energia lunaris y con lagrimas de estrellas.
Los listones magicos habian llegado a sus manos atravez de la concha sagrada de la lady de la luna.
Porque hasta las nubes tienen sombras.
¿Y que estan haciendo las plumas cantoras en mi escritorio? No se acordaba de lo que habia ocurrido… Es un reino celestial el sol que calienta el suelo. Corazón de la tierra. Vibraremos, sentiremos energia del alma yadidi. Oh, mente luminosa medicina yadidi.
So magical.
“Lástima, téngase ustedes (los que no saben amar, los que no saben perdonar, los que no saben volar)… porque nosotros los de espíritu libre y corazón de ave ya nos vamos muy, pero muy lejos.” … Le dice la guacamaya al quetzal.
No para, no deja de pensar en el hombre del tatuaje del pez vela. La habia, la ha movido mucho. La habia hecho sentir colores… Le habia movido su cristalito mariri yadidi…
Es lo que siente una dulce locura de cosquillas en su cuerpo.
La Mujer De Las Ollas habia regresado con un nuevo look… Ay los misterioso, los arcanos del desierto.
…The man of the moon had become an ascended Master of the Light at the Temple of the Sacred Technologies… in the Astral Realm of Divina Eternity.
He is now a solar angel. And she can’t wait to be with him.
Sometimes the old always are just the best. Be nice to a librarian!
True love is supernal transformation. Miss Harris has taught her so much.
Stay attentive. Look up at the sky. You will be astonished by the wonders you will find when everyone else is blinded with fear.
??…Playful awareness… Sublime Yadidi…
Silence, the unseen is speaking.
One thing is clear, the moon is closer than what we think.
The moon is indeed reachable.
Yadidi…Yadidi…The hidden universe is revealing… Sublime Yadidi…Yadidi??
#AstralDreamWork
#CelestialRealmOfThePlants
#EtherealBeingsOfSupernalMagic
#WarriorsOfTheAncientMotherboard
#KnightsOfConsciousness
#QuetzalGuacamaya
#ImmortaSolarBeings
#Suprapersonal
#MechanicalMotherboardOfTheUniverse
#LemurianKnights
#AncientForcesOfMu
#LemurianHyperdimensionalWisdom
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