Can extract sunshine from a cloudy day!

Join the great company of those who make the barren places of life fruitful with kindness. Carry a vision of heaven in your hearts, and you shall make your name,your college, the world, correspond to that vision. Your success and happiness lie within you. External conditions are the accidents of life, its outer wrappings. The great, enduring realities are love and service. Joy is the holy fire that keeps our purpose warm and our intelligence aglow. Resolve to keep happy, and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulty. ~ Helen Keller
L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥ •´¯`•.¸¸.♥Fiat Lux ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥ •´¯`•.¸¸.♥Fiat Lux ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥

Monday, April 21, 2014

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ The Angels of April Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched, but must be felt with the heart.” ~Helen Keller

Let me tell YOU of the sweet whisperings of April days where quiet within all of a sudden I hear the faint rush of silken angel wings fly me by, whoosh! They came and come often still and sit on my shoulders, or teeter at the edge of my mind, or sometimes stand amused jolly in my corner of colors. 

I know they are there, here - when I feel laughter coming in- when I hear the church bells chiming - when I smell flowers from nowhere- the unprovoked smile of  a random someone...the dulcet chirp of green birdie balancing on my gate. Even smack right inside this big bulk of vanilla gratitude I carry right now, oh yes, they be here, the April angels. 


They keep watch all moments to catch tears, catch fears, catch hate, catch doubt, catch loneliness and spite-ness and every other drab grub that falls off my mortal shell, shedding like dead skin cells until I am scrubbed to glowing. 

We beings earthbound barter and trade potions for the promise of pretty, youth and longevity - but angelics come to soothe soured soul's withered lines, deepened scars, and calloused hearts with a swipe from The Balm of Gilead whose restoration plummets deep into dermis abyss, and we are whole again - born to new. This is what happens. This is what's true. 

So in my good, in my bad, in my gain and in my pain, in my breath and in -within - the - pockets - of - air that cut between the gaps of my entire somatic being, they flutter - they exist - they be. 

Breathing me faith, the angels of April, resurrect me, again. And life has color.