Please share, but no one may reproduce this blog in any fashion or format. I am a child and victims' rights advocate, and write in part to expose disordered systems and corruption.
This blog contains samples of my writings, sensory inspirations, musings, fiction & nonfiction endeavors.
It is dedicated to the "Queen of Angels" or “Divine Maternal”.
Message of Hopefor America from the Divine Maternal transmittedby Wren Clement Eli
like a trick using hypnosis the cards have been played but you can overcome them, my daughter for they are not real there is nothing that can harm you you are indestructible you are part of the universe, a holy temple with a living Soul you are fine metal, a work of art know Beauty in the core of your Be-ing know Beauty is the core of your Be-ing I have touched the ground and my heart sings with gladness I am the daughter of the new reckoning I am the New Recognition
in the woods, protect my identity in the fields, protect my identity in your words, protect my identity my face is in your lands and you are walking with my feet know the heaven that thou art before you see it, and it will be revealed to you open your ears to the sound of my voice you will hear it in bird song feel the rush of my laughter in the broken waves what you feel within yourself is the beating of my own heart there is no monster standing at your gate when you focus on, rather than deny my presence in yourself and in your neighbor you protect my identity let us cast off only that which distracts from our internal gazing
an Oracion of the Divine Feminine, transmitted by Wren Clement Eli
Beloved world,
There is a big difference between judging persons, self or others, and questioning human thoughts, words, perceptions and actions.
The first is what destroys, causing human beings and their civilizations to fall, because it attacks the infinite worth of human Souls.
The second is a sword of discernment, a ‘final judgement” that reveals illusion. This sword loosens and destroys false assumptions, perceptions, lies and prejudices. It can be likened to a lightning strike, severing and shattering illusions that obscure the meaning of things from the mind’s eye.
There is a big difference between this divine accuracy, that in humans is a refusal to assume anything, and self-righteousness. There’s a big difference between the just anger of the Divine Feminine in mankind, that will always affirm Souls and protect wellbeing, and the brute force of physical man’s dominion, which leads to death.
In form’s death, a deeper, more substantive and beautiful Reality is revealed.
But humanity must shed its attachments to divisions and temporary forms that lead to death, and reidentify as Shared Being, while your earthly feet still touch the ground, so humanity as a species can survive. The Tower of Babel is that illusion of separation that humans are building with their words. From this tower their highest material societies are inevitably tumbling into destruction.
Remember, you are all Souls. You are all God’s Children.
Your identifications and labels of persons, self and others, are a powerful thing. You are granted unto it.
In America, dehumanizing words have calcified like living illusions, or thought-monsters, and are now as plentiful as the sand on your shore. No union of states can sustain itself unless its tenants stop using words that sustain illusions of separation and unworthiness. Then the real interconnectedness, innocence and untarnished beauty of all Souls can be revealed.
Look to nature, the beauty of the changing seasons, and see how it represents my undefended, Divine Maternal heart. Nature is an example of why humanity must break free from attachments to passing forms and illusions, including labels and words which attempt to negate, divide and objectify persons. Mankind’s attachments to illusions of separation have no real life or reality in them. The authority of what you perceive must always decrease itself, so that which is beauty, unity and truth beyond description can emerge from all human hearts.
There is no death in Shared Being, the Mystery of God that you already are, intangible and unspeakable in human terms.
Even My lightening that strikes against the material wood is vindicated in the revealing of the Tree of Life. This is not the end of the world. This is mankind’s Genesis.
But the time is now for the creation of hell, or the revealing of heaven on earth.
Allow what appears as the shattering of forms, even those seemingly as important as countries or nations, to reveal that which can never die, as if from broken shells.
The time is now for all of Adam to wake up, remember, and return to the spiritual wholeness of being not mere matter or beast, but Womb-man; the never-really-divisible, United Shared Being of God.
I am the essence beyond that which contains me, not just the flowering fair but the portal and seed of that flowering
I am the movement, and that which moves movement, as well as the violet orbits, of my suns
know me by your own hand, know me by your own face
I am that which rests in your beginnings, the immaculate nature of your grace
I cost you nothing and I demand no sacrifice, save for what you are not
I am the undoing of your saints, and at the same time their vindication
my divine recklessness shatters your world of mirrors and your shadowed perceptions into pieces
so that the world and mankind can behold who you really are, whole and brilliant, in all of your shattered parts
the time we have together is less than hours, but in that absence of time we are real presence, original justice, and eternal grace
when you remember all in me, and me in all,
when you remember I am within yourself, and you remember that I am yourself,
the divine feminine, rather than beast,
that is when the brute on earth really walks erect, and Souls in form can conceive of the divine within themselves
rather than continue to nurse at man’s vain imaginings and pay homage to his sand
mankind becomes a living chalice, primate reemerges womb-man
and without effort or exertion we casteth our wings like divine template over entire kingdoms
lightning flashes across my sky, but this lightning doesn’t split the tree
it is the lightening of remembrance, it is the tree of life, it is the reunion of divine reflection, upon the earth
all being stays rooted in heaven, never to be washed away again by morning tide
souls, do you hear this thunderous rebellion rolling across your lands?
do you feel the truth of it in the bowels of your earth?
fear not what mortals cannot understand, for I am the undefended heart which is your undefended heart
I am the real solid ground in which grows the tree of life, in divine arboretum
simply wake up my children, wake up and remember who you are
reidentify with that not dependent on mortal stratagems and systems of war and division and you cannot fail, fall, or die
now in your own world or the kingdom that you’ve always borne within yourself, only illusion can die
because you are the essence beyond that which contains you
you are sweet paradox, sublime inversion, the divine feminine that takes on, beholds and frees that which would seek to destroy you, so as to lovingly conquer the beast
gratitude is the realization I am the house of gifts everything is within me as a Soul I am he who sits at rest there, as a Soul I am she already containing abundance gratitude is a rediscovery of a forgotten, secret chamber inside of ourselves where all Souls can meet the outer world disparages what it cannot see, what it cannot comprehend and the world asks, did you take that voodoo in, that you were fed in there? the world says slaves cannot survive without puppet masters as a Soul I respond no, we don’t take in real magic, that of which we are already made we remember instead, who we already are giving, receiving, and opening gifts, like children on Christmas morning when I incarnated into the world it was the world who fed me a lie, telling me gods couldn’t be gods, without being evil and it is you world who tried to tell me remembering who I am would lead to my death it is you that is designed to distract from the treasures buried within us, our birthright and freedoms, and train Souls instead in outer dependency you tell us to be grateful for what outer systems can grant unto us, trying to necessitate yourself, and outer kingdoms as our lord and savior, you tell spirit that preceded such things that preceded all things it is we that must pay homage for your outer dominion as if you can contain us but gratitude is being in the divine pattern of receiving ourselves, not deceiving ourselves receiving our own living, and infinite reflections, that can know no death gratitude is Being, already in the house of the lord, the house of all gifts
I am the We the We that moves rivers and plotted the hours for your day think like me human man do not take your folly to the grave peace and prosperity isn’t found in primate behavior nor is it bound in imaginings of division sustenance can only be found in the fullness of reality that which already sustains us that which We already are the Communion of Souls the real solid ground for only within human man not by way of outer paths lies the way back to heaven
Consider, dear Heart, that the children remember, about the Is-ness of things that the whole universe is really made up of One Breath of God Wise is the little boy, doting on stray puppy, the little girl concerned for cow killed for supper very young children remember One Source, that form is what’s accidental Wise are the little ones who do not cast aspersions, on that which sustains them or take it for granted, for even the trees, the water and air share the Is-ness of things Let’s imagine a world in which we all say, with reverence, to Forest, before we excavate for houses, “you are my body, forming natural shelter overhead your arms a canopy of leaves moss, carpet beneath my feet” let us say to the rivers, the oceans and streams, “you are life’s blood, coursing through Me for without water my body is also dry, parched earth” Consider we really are One with the puppy, the cow, humming bird, and bee and act accordingly for only then can Infinity respond in the magnitude of Her abundance
sweet is the life in the growing field sweet in the bud and the tree sweetness flows as the water through chalice and form the same but for shadow as me saying the days have been wasted is like describing dirt’s edges as worn though some speak of what’s pure as corrupted and describe what is whole as what’s torn I’ve been told that I’m gifted a garden that was painted in umbra for me but I’ve unwrapped the finch from its burlap cage and shadows can’t mar what is free
on my way the veil breaks and I wonder for a moment if I can stay in both realms around me a flow like the rushing of water I didn’t know this I had fallen asleep for so long the mud started to claim me I didn’t know I would grow here my limbs stretching forth but moreover, I didn’t know hungry roots could shake free of what they’d devoured and I could be like empedocles’ daughter asking tell me this tell me this father, what’s in the house of the lord as I leap from the bank and laugh, splashing, into the water
Unraveled and the Birth of Joy 