The Great Spirit speaks…But do we listen?
The cocreation of decision.Intuition.Intimate missions which we’re never missing.
As long as we’re open to it.No need to bring hope into it.The spirit and its moves are,oh so fluid.
I don't wrestle with wresting influence…at no point did “he” do it.
Learn humility or know humiliation.All desperation we’re facing is from the impatience of space ships.
Meanwhile,Mother Earth cracks a smile.Seeing the disrespect made normal.Manipulation of hormones,borne from societies ran by scorned sons.
This earth is never enough for your dumb.Green was made for your thumbs.But their urge to paint the town red is enormous.Distorted.As if destined to not be dust in the wind.Imbalanced spirits with insecure skins.
They’ll never know the peace of the doormen.The poor men,who abhor the obsession with score that informs men.Torn men,apart without warning.Addictions they think reform them.Stepping into the storms den.
Meanwhile,the storm avoids them.Moves through them.They flew through it,While mere humans agonize over what they can do to it.
The idea of control,We poo poo it.who needs to stop that shit?All of the crew foolish.Banded together by antics in weatherBuild machines to laugh at those who dance to it better.As if the rain is controlled cause you wear a steel sweater.
Make it so casual to be numb to the natural.The fantasy of control becomes factual.Now we got cold souls who think its tactfulto invite frostbite.Masochism becomes sadism.Acted out as if they act right.Running from fearful schisms they feel at night.A bad life,in which their heart disappears.Clearly stab at backsides.Their own first.Then everyone they see with mad sight.So many excuses to be mad right?
Loose their loser ways on loved ones who choose to stay.Or random folks tryna make a way.how much hatred can they make today? Adding to this society's fake displays.Pale proponents of a paper chase.The blood runs dry from the eyes of a spirit that’s opaque in pain.Yesterday was all talk.they don’t stop today.
Hope for tomorrow?Tell me if yall know how to hope for less cargo.Less baggage from a savage stabbing at escargot.Who sees compassion as a flaw.Who’d make bastards of us all,if they see the cash involved.Like this dastardly destruction is something that a class could solve.Like taking compassionate instruction would have their ass involved.
Who acts appalled when they see the master mauled?Not the sage servants who were tasked and called,But the cruel killers who would smash the small.
Get full access to School of Kuu at schoolofkuu.substack.com/subscribe
