I’m posting this a day before my daughter’s 26th birthday. I’ve always felt, with certainty, that we were meant to incarnate this way, as mother and daughter, at this particular time in the life of this planet. I don’t need to know why, because I know it’s true. Happy birthday, Bink. You are the best gift ever.
The Room Where Light Meets
Perhaps it began in a vast,
cloud filled room,
backlit with stars
and random flashes
of lightening,
or
the distilled bright
of a hundred
thousand dawns
that traveled,
speed-of-light style,
to their meeting place
to coalesce
perfectly and
right on time,
to kneel as pure light
before
the Beginner
of All That Is
where we
each received
our assignments,
and that
ethereal datebook,
days marked
in celestial
purple ink
to mark your conception,
and your birth,
full enspiritment,
yours as child,
mine as mother.
Perhaps there is no
random,
no haphazard,
perhaps we are all
always
right on time.
–Melinda Coppola
Eloquence as Legacy