Another late night adventure to the park, yesterday.

We saw the Moon. Spoke of the stars. Light pollution, and it’s way of disconnecting us from what surrounds.

Krislynn is the most beautiful child, in my eyes. We knew her power before she was ever born. Her presence bears a great impact on those around her. So many acknowledge what a happy baby she is.

Seems she knows more by intuition, than one would think a child capable of. I always wonder her reaction to the consumption of meat. Already, Krislynn refuses dark meat and bread. My gut has a strong distaste for this food. It has been an ongoing struggle in my mind and body. Suppose I’m waiting for just the right influence to rip me away, clean.

Her beauty surely shines, when she runs to the trees and gives them a big hug! The moments I don’t have a camera, can be so special.

What a generation she will be apart of. So funny to think so far in time, when my own generation has barely embarked on making our own mark.

Lately, Krislynn has been living up to her middle-name more than ever. Little Miss Night.

After putting her to rest around ten-this-evening, she awoke about 1a.m. So we decided to walk her and the dogs to the park.

On the way home, we have to cross a major intersection. The streets here are rather dead by midnight on a weekday. Still, there are those lone riders. Patiently still, we wait for the green to cross the street. We’ve experienced drivers not waiting for the right-away pedestrians to cross many-a-time.

Two in the morning. A man in a red vehicle speeds up to the left turn lane, as we’re crossing the street. He doesn’t wait, but rushes on in front of us.

I am a Mother-Bear. My cub is my pride and joy. I don’t respect those who disrespect her precious life. So I voiced this with, “Impatient Butt-Face!”

Yes… I bear great maturity. I was much inclined to laugh. Even more so when the man driving stopped his car. As if he was contemplating an argument in the matter.

All the while, my husband sporting his Jester hat, holding his daughter’s hand.

In reflection, I understand the words of the man in my dream. “… and they found blood everywhere… but they never found them!”

I believe he was referring to a dream I had while pregnant with Krislynn. A dream that left me equally terrified and awe-inspired by my potential.

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Finding myself in a room, aligned West to East. One Window facing South. An entrance from the West. It was a darkly decorated room, with wood paneling on the walls.

Many people were present. Some I knew, and others I did not. Nobody in which I can currently name. Though, I was an unseen observer.

As quickly as I came, so too did a male-force. No face could I put to him. He swept through the room in a vicious frenzy, a massacre had commenced. Then he was gone, and I was left untouched. Standing within a bloodstained room, dismembered bodies and all.

…Then, my mind morphed me to a peaceful place. A beautiful outside terrace. Large tiles, and curvaceous white pillars lining the balcony. Stairs leading down into a garden.

Here my presence was acknowledged, and I felt to be at my fullest potential. Certain family members present, including Christopher, his Mother-Mary, and sisters Becca, Ashley and Colissa. There were unidentifiable faces as well.

Here, I levitated laying down. Between my mid-wife, Lisa, and another unknown female. Thereafter, I sang in harmony with Mother-Mary and sisters. Letting my throat loose, hitting the highest of notes without hesitancy. A talent I’ve yet to let myself own, especially in anothers’ presence.

…Still, I landed back in the room of murder. Still feeling the furious male presence. Panicked, but not lacking sense, I was able to jump out of the window… Stories down. At which point I awoke.

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My life has been an ascent. No matter how far forward I climb; stumble and fall I do. For in adolescence, I damned myself if I were to become arrogant. So much that I never allowed a sense of confidence in myself to develop. In recent years, within myself I did not even confide.

Much I’ve experienced. I have always been the one to throw the rock beneath my feet; stumble and fall at my own will. Force does not flow.

Standing within a glass house. I have broken away my walls to bear purity in life. Positivity is what I sought, despite my desirable doom. Here and now, no more can I throw rocks. For in this action, I will disarm the gentile grounds in which I’ve grown in grace. My roots will only bear strength in harboring harmony; to hell with the rest.