A Nine EnneaStory laced through this poem. Read through a couple times to see if you catch it!?
“Fading in and seeking to envision a resurfacing of the true shape of you. Holding on close to this defined figure.
This bold, black, brilliant, beautiful. How can I grasp just how significant you are when it seems to slip right through my hands, quickly dissipating. Air becomes your form and floating your demise. Resigned you blow with not much vitality only as a passing wind.”
"This bold, black, brilliant, beautiful. How can I grasp just how significant you are when it seems to slip right through my hands, quickly dissipating."
Can you sift through this 9 story and poem? What colors, images, sensations, feelings come up? How does this change your perception the 9s narrative? How will you grow love a 9 more deeply?
Comments