The Lesson of the Healing Cup

Excerpt: Lessons from the Trumpet Vine

The Lesson of the Healing Cup

We see you are perplexed, the elders said to me, as you sit in confusion regarding this group of words that you have written. Despite your ability to access the many gifts of creativity which you have been granted, you still become trapped at times within the physical world. You have done much to allow yourself the freedom to enter into the realm of the intangible, and for that we are grateful. Yet, at moments, you continue to struggle with what appears to be the simplest of chores, and we find this somewhat amusing. You have molded your experience with us thus far into a physical format in which you are unsuccessfully trying to fit this particular group of words. We smile at this, kindly, dear one. Let us assist you.

The day that these words were written we brought to you a magnificent vision to assist us in delivering a message. This message is our gift to the Healers that walk among you, and the message also holds important instructions for them. Through this vision, we hoped that you might draw attention to the healers’ unfathomable beauty and to their importance as we pay tribute to their work. We ask that they listen to our message, within your words. Place this among your pages, do not concern yourself with organized patterns in the form of chapters or prose versus poetry. All of your words are intended to serve the highest good. Stop fretting and have faith. Let the words remain as they came to you.

The Healing Cup

I saw a vision of the healer.

She stood in gentle strength.

My face flushed in awe of her beauty.

A gossamer of golden filament

created a transparent veil

luxuriously encapsulating her.

She was aglow.

Her arms were stretched open,

like the wings of the blue jay soaring,

in her welcome to the universe and

all held therein for mankind.

Her empty hands were gently cupped

in silken pods to behold

the most precious of gifts.

From her heart a labyrinth reached out—

delicate threads of golden rays.

She humbly asked for wisdom and compassion

to ebb and flow in gentle waves,

to wash upon the shore of her soul.

Her face serene in wonderment,

she silently wept.

From the midnight sky, a waterfall

cascaded upon her—

iridescent falling stars,

constellations of golden dust.

With hands overflowing,

she brought them together

to rest in front of her heart.

She gazed into hands,

mesmerized by her treasure—

molten gold swirling in tides of pearlescent luster,

undulating and flowing.

She remained unmoving,

diligent in her task,

she asked for direction.

“Gaze into your hands,” came the response. “you will see,

as cream from the udder rises from milk,

the richest of healing will come to rest on top.

Tip the cup first toward yourself. The richest is for you,

for an empty vessel cannot heal.

Practice this motion on the dawn of each day.

Then you will be able to give from the healing cup.”



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