Come to the fire
The dusk deepened and the moon rose higher, arcing across the darkening sky. We sat together staring into the fire, two men, friends, brothers. The wind kicked up and the air suddenly grew cold. I fed more wood to the fire, the expanding firelight illuminating our minds.
“Look at me,” I said gently, tears in my eyes. “What story have you made up about love, about your love? I’m listening–tell me.”
We are on a significant journey in this lifetime. For many of us, it’s a long and arduous return to love, a return to the truth of who we are and our connection to Source. Like the strains of a distant melody, our relationship with the Intelligence that created us is a song we know well but have forgotten the words. The ego always dissolves at its sound.
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