the Elizabeth directiv

for being of the workings 

of the loadstones of gratitude,

be the experience junkie,

who constantly lactates 

in the service to humankind,

but who privately discovers 

the inner-self workings 

of the constancy 

of the milk production medium.

become aware of the self-miracle 

the milk production is.

be of the ascendency that blesses the milk 

in its self-origin sourcing.

demystify the artfulness of that production

and authorize the blessedness forthcoming, 

from within the milk in its deliverance. 

be source-fully from beyond that production

and from beyond the experience 

of being that provider. 

just be of the constancy of the beyond

that comes as the liquidity 

of the future arriving.

live in that aliveness, 

from beyond any sense of time 

or experience of timing.

be a pundit of circumstance realized.

be of the constancy of timing, 

that has the face of realization transposing.

be the conduit, 

that faces the predicament of passage.

be the wet-nurse, 

that provides the nurturance 

of circumstance 

and the intimacies of opportunity.

but not to bare witness 

to what others do with this offering.

just be the wet-nurse 

in the deliverance of essence.

how others take from that essence 

and make operatives,

is not any of your means or concern,

for you are that presence of fountaining, 

that has timelessness,

as sourced 

beyond others' meaningful's implications,

that provides for spirit presence 

in other's realizations.

imagine, having taken on the role 

of a worker-bee, 

that provides for the human hive 

by this dance of directedness.

imagine, being the highway road sign 

that, when read in passing, 

leaves impressions 

that are, for others, 

unforgettable in passing.

imagine being the storm-cloud of laughter 

that provides sky-bound nurturance, 

beyond the means 

and the grasp and definition, 

of any sense of gratitude embraced.

have constancy of this,

punctuate the intermittency 

of experience's dialogue.

be the voice singing, 

that doesn't create audience 

but provides for sing-along.

be of the page-less songbook, 

that allows for others to turn each page. 

be of the sacredness of fluids, 

that allows each individual person 

to salivate their experience, 

as they swallow.

be a conduit of self-consciousness 

in the presence of soul-absorption. 

lay down that sword, 

fashioned from the temperance of dilemmas 

and take of up the wing affect 

of the constancy of sky in celebration.

go into the intimacy of now, 

from beyond what time has as its offering.

translate the drumrolls of anxiety 

into the firmament of the heartbeat.

seek less yet soak in the more.

be where the chalk-stick of self 

leaves their whiteness 

on the blackboard of now. 

and allows others to read those impressions you made 

and interpret them, 

for their own self in discovery.

be that chalk in deliverance, 

held in the heart-space of the hand 

that comes forth from 

beyond the predicament of time, 

in the presentation of its presence.

and be,

be where being in the know, 

surrenders to the transcendence of being, 

ever in the now . . .