Oh night, hello quiet Steemian

After my 3 mile run at the Pico Rivera river-bed.
Credit: © 2016 RAQUEL CAMPOS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED





The Pico Rivera river-bed is where I feel the heartbeats of my lost children.
Credit: © 2016 RAQUEL CAMPOS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED




Dearly beloved Steemian,

In the night my thoughts signal out frequencies to the moon for she is gracious enough to hear my prayers. Do you ever feel her at night? Does she light up your window and reveal to you the station that holds all the secrets of my heart. These tight bones crack with the aches of a woman so filled with love. I sigh quiet sighs in hope for the whole world to feel the same way as they sleep.

This body of ours lives in this world that is so experimental. Sensations were made to be discovered only later for them to grow quiet. Despite that I know that bodies and souls still bruise badly at the frequent yearning we feel for just a drop or a freckle of love, or even something as simple as a soft hello to remind you of how you are welcomed.

We all thirst for affection, validation, or love. We wouldn’t even be greedy and drink an entire chalice of generosity without giving it back for another to taste it. One drop of time seeded into the right soil is enough to help heal, motivate, and sustain a soul that has been wounded before creation and implantation in the womb.

Love is that powerful and beautiful. Love has many forms. I can only hope you see any form it takes when you wake up, when you fall asleep, and when you dream.

We were not born with malice, envy, greed, hate. Sometimes the harshness of a world: the chaos we perceive it to constantly be can bring us to love the worst within ourselves.

We were born by the love that our parents' hold or once held. Born to give, create, repair, nurture, and support the lives around us. At one point of your unknowing life your mother felt joy through her pregnancy with you. She delighted at the first kick she could feel from you, delighted at the cravings you craved and shared with her, and trust me the first day of your life there was joy whether it was soft or loud...there was joy.

You may never know how many tries she had to experience to achieve the journey of bringing you here, or the events that unfolded for your mother (infertility, miscarriage, or trauma that scared her from procreation), but yet she didn't give up on birthing you despite the obstacles she pushed through.

You are flesh of your mother's flesh, bone of your father's bones, and blood from your ancestors all those who came before you so you can be here.

Amplify yourselves to what we truly are beautiful fires filled with love, compassion, and happiness.

Blessed are we by Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water...

I hope the pursuit of your happiness sparks your neighbor to look for his. For we all embark in the quest to fill this world with undercurrents of hope that people can anchor themselves down to when the high tide feels too overwhelming.

I believe in you and your potential. You are not alone my friend. For you are mesmerizing and shall triumph all obstacles, fear, and evil that stops you from blossoming, deepening the roots to your belonging, and from finding the mystery and adventure a new day can bring.

You belong here, so hello quiet Steemian, hello. I hope you find home where ever that may be. I hope that there is a quiet hum by your bedroom window. I hope that soft noise reminds you just how needed you are or will become to those who have yet to know you. There are still so many new people to meet, new people to love, but it takes time (sometimes a day or so) before fate can unravel.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Raquel Campos

Pico Rivera River-bed my running home the origin where my hope started again.
Credit: © 2016 RAQUEL CAMPOS ALL RIGHTS RESERVED