The Spirit of Contemplation, Poem, Eve Featherstone

The Spirit of Contemplation, Albert Toft 1862 - 1949

Pop culture prevents space
Between a human's thoughts
It forbids a moment's rest
Promotes what you've not bought

Compare yourself to others
Smaller though you'll stay
Weaker than the images
Less beautiful and gray

The ancient way of staring
Into space and time
Alone with just your own thoughts
Eyes fixed on grass and vine

Allow yourself the space now
Deliberate your life
Contemplate your place here
Contemplate each bite

The TV's not the answer
A book is not your own
The gym defeats the purpose
Insight is stillness grown

Message not engaging?
Your body reigns will take
Creating a serious illness
So you'll have to take a break.

-Eve Featherstone



The Spirit of Contemplation, Albert Toft 1862 - 1949

The Astral Plane Heckles

"The astral plane heckles when I act out of Faith."
-Eve Featherstone

The collective babble from the astral plane is what heckles those who act out of faith.

Distinction of Fervor Part 2

The fervor that "is no more"
Softly bowed out
I didn't even notice
Until I just now awoke
To a peaceful and beautiful
Song in my heart
Heralding a new way of
Living as Art

What was this fervor?
Was it unto its own?
Was it naive raw emotions?
Was it simply hormones?
I didn't seek respite
I didn't know it would leave
I didn't know it as a problem
I just noticed reprieve*

In search of surprising
Truth in the dark
In search of conspiring to
Raise in an arch of
Mounting possessions and
Gleeful intrigue
When something is sensed
In a concealed mystique

I know now the decay
Of these subjects well.
I skimmed just the surface
To observe and swell
Then burst the illusion
The genius gone
Only the hideous
Disillusionment dawns

A new better version
A more interesting game
Each more surprising
Intricately played
Design of roads from
Paving stones laid
By strong interest
Intrigue and laughter
That stayed.

The fervor was questions
Answered entwined
Answered by voyages
Which stranded me blind
I have no more questions
In this sort of vein
I have only beauty and
Wonder to tame.

-I AM Eve is One
via Eve Featherstone

reprieve - a cancellation of punishment

Distinction of Fervor Part 1

The spirited fervor*
Which yanked me about
Out of relations
Stability out
Is unexpectedly
Left my experience
Not my distinction
When truly devout

The fervor would reset
Circumstance flat
Never a gain from which
I could then map
A steady ascension to
Easier life
Fervor objected
Then would re-roll the dice

I'm strong now and solid
At peace with my life
Circumstances don't alter
Contemplation's first wife
Each day a new hand
Is dealt to my soul
Rich with new patterns
To trace over the old.

- I AM EVE IS ONE
via Eve Featherstone

fervor - intense and passionate feeling

NOTE FROM EVE: After a year of of mobility and everything being unsure and susceptible to change, I find myself resting in a new safe and solid state of being. It only happened this week. (Jan 10, 2015) I realized the fervor which I realized had been the primary distinction of my character has gone, and I'm into a game of finesse now, free from the mainstream pressures of finance and guilt.

Repeated downsizing and simplification have brought me to this place. I can live with far less than I ever imagined 10 years ago, but this knowing has opened a portal of bone deep Gnosis which feels safe, solid and it feels also like a platform from which I can build myself a new type of life. A life which unfolds into more and more safety and unexpected beauty.

I will now write a poem which attempts to answer the question "Who or what was the fervor which accompanied me on the first half of my life?" Why did it leave? What did I do to make it go? Did it go of its own accord? Did I simply play all the levels of its game?

Refer to Distinction of Fervor Part 2 for the answers that I will uncover now in real time.

It's Only for a Little While

Channeled Pastel drawing by Eve Featherstone

The night sky, disguised as a raven, flew up to the top of the mountains which looked tiny beneath him. His white feet became the snow capped mountains. The raven grasped the sunset, disguised as a red serpent, and gently carried the serpent with his beak down to the ground. The serpent had been sunning himself as the "fire of the Air". Sensing the serpent's disappointment, the raven said simply "it's only for a little while".

The serpent went lower into the lowest crags of the Earth and became slow, red lava to keep warm and to continue to offer change as the "fire of the Earth". The raven came back the next night to visit the serpent, and marveled at the serpent's successful adaptation to change. The raven whispered to the serpent from the darkness, "the Earth needs you my friend". The serpent knew this on a deep level, and continued to follow a naturally designed path presented by the Earth herself.

The Earth held the dear serpent close to her own heart, and was grateful to the raven for returning it. The serpent became an important force to carry out the Earth's will. The Earth whispered to the serpent "it's only for a little while".

-I AM EVE IS ONE
Eve Featherstone

Blamed for the End, Channel I AM EVE IS ONE

For every heartfelt act submitted towards improvement, beautification and preservation . . . a great plunge into the pockets of willful darkness goes; an unwanted illumination which makes the status quo uncomfortable by comparison. Even if not meant to eradicate impurities, it does so by default, and the explosion of the impurities are felt by the Huntress as her apron becomes bloody. Wash away the blood, consider yourself an unwitting marksman, and proceed with pride.

Innocence known and embodied carries with it an unseen armor and draws to it unseen targets to dissolve. Most go without knowledge, but some dispel energy from the accidental blow, and appear from the unseen as a burst of hostility, out of context in the New Eden. Harmless yet loud. Who is more apt to be blamed for the end of anything than the One who causes its end. Forever this truth holds itself as self apparent, and forever thee as witness to Earth, shall attempt to surround thyself with good, yet be in its pure purpose, in contact with bits and pieces of bland, non-constructive routines which strike out at that which terminates their ease of control.

I AM EVE IS ONE
via Eve Featherstone

Ode to New Year's Promises

Nearing the New Year
In a dead sprint
To cross the old threshold
In a month clear of tint.

The future seems fresh now
The past year has tired
I'm always so eager to
Escape from the mired.

January's a mirage
A facade to unknown
Another year soiled
By December overgrown.

Each New Year's whispers
Promises it can't keep
It just has to get you
To commit one more leap.

-Eve Featherstone