“The Covenant” (Revisited)

As I explain below, this is one of those pieces that occasionally calls out to me for reinterpretation.  Now residing in my “Pages” folder, I found it calling to me yet again in my morning meditation – replaying over and over again, and so blocking any other info from entering.  With such demanding force expressed, I cannot ignore it.  Perhaps it is in response to my recent interactions with Sha’Tara and rawgod, or perhaps it is relevant again for some other reason entirely.  In any event, it is the first compelling “lead” I’ve received in days, so I offer it to you once again…

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Originally published as a regular post, I have chosen to move it here [Pages folder] for more permanent, easily accessible status.  This poem (?) originally came to me as a “flow of consciousness” piece that bordered on an unplanned case of automatic writing.  It came with such force that it drove everything else out of my mind until it was captured in writing.  Unedited, except for spelling and formatting issues, it has become one of those “go-to” works that repeatedly becomes relevant in different situations and times in my life.  Almost prophetic, it has not only explained and corrected my path from time to time, but I have been driven to share it with others occasionally to similar results.  I share it here, now, because I find references (both obvious and subtle) appearing in many other works of mine, even new ones, forcing me to acknowledge its ongoing influence in my life today…

“The Covenant”




and you, T.O.O. shall know

what I have come to learn.

It begins with This,

for this is what I know:

The time is Now…

time now to learn what each Other knows.

Why we are…

Who we are…


as before…

let us Be…


As it was in the Beginning.

For in the beginning,

there was One.

And One spoke in the Silence:

“I Am…

Alone am I…

I would be Other…

So I am.”

And as each Word was,

so it Was,

and so it was,

that One became Other –

Twelve Others.

But with Otherhood

came Different-ness.

And from different-ness

came War.

So it was through war

that each Other came to know:




And Regret.

And with regret,

came a Desire

for One.

So it was that a Council of Twelve

gathered in the presence of One

seeking Peace,

instead of War.

And a Great Covenant was sealed:

“Beyond Time and Space,

there is Truth.

Within each Heart,

there is Power.

Through each Life,

there is Hope.

Between the Lessons of History,

and the Promise of Tomorrow,

Lie the Meaning and Purpose of Today:

Peace resides where Love reigns.”

And from this Great Covenant

sprang Three Sacred States,

each a world of Four,

with Four each to guide and protect the Three.


in the Name of One…

in the Spirit of Other…

in search of Peace.


Here we are – three

in a world of four.

Our world of four

but one of three.

And the message of the Pyramids

is on the Surface

for all to clearly see:

Four Sacred Children

gather as One

to learn of What Was.

Three times they come,

and through them, we come

to know of what Will Be.

The Promise of All…

The Lesson of One.

And one is asked,

“Who are you?”

And the Answer comes:

“I am Nobody…

But because I am nobody,

I am the same as Everybody.

And being everybody,

I am the voice of All.

As All…

I am…


So who I am

is irrelevant.

All That Matters


that I AM.”

And the Truth is this:

There is no Other!


© Lisa R. Palmer, 1995


The Chill…

I have a chill inside my body I simply cannot shake.  No matter how many layers I don, or blankets I snuggle into, the chill remains…

It reminds me of the coldness of space, the emptiness of all that lies between the atoms of matter, and the consciousness of being.  And I cannot shake it free…

I reach for something warm, familiar, to hold close to my heart, hoping, as always, to feel once more as though I am a part.  Of something grander and more meaningful than just myself.

But still the chill remains…

Outsmarting all my efforts to push it or turn it away…

Is this just my way of telling me that I prefer to stay enslaved?

Now that’s a chilling thought!


Unquotable Quotes #29

On lying to Oneself…

Just because you think you “got away with” something doesn’t mean you aren’t guilty of committing the “crime” anyway…

Just sayin’…

Poetry, Reflections, Visions

“Convergence…” (From the Book of Other)

I offer this post to Sha’Tara, in explanation, as an example of, the kinds of entries I might discover in the Book of Other.  I found it in my draft folder here, where there are currently some 22 unpublished posts.  It was “dated” June of last year, a useful bit of information made possible by the medium itself…

But, like so many such entries, I don’t “remember” writing it, though I clearly recognize it as “mine.”  The word choice, metaphors, the rhythym itself, all sound like “me,” but the memory of writing it is gone.  The tone, itself – light-hearted and whimsical – sounds like a different “me” entirely, which it most likely was.  I was clearly reaching out across the timelines, attempting to communicate with my Others, and I was describing the same Center Space as in my previous post.  The Crossroads is another frequent metaphor for describing the place, one favored by a different version of self…

And it is encounters like this that explain why the “powers that be” chose to label me schizophrenic in the first place. Lol!  And perhaps they were not wrong, after all…


Standing at the crossroads


not expecting or anticipating…

but waiting nonetheless.

And here they come, like happy children

skipping down the paths toward me…


thoughts and feelings gathering here…

to be incorporated into the family tree.

They come in waves, and crowded rushes

and some arrive individually…

all related…

and connected to the Whole that is Me.

Are they merely thoughts and feelings?

Transitory and epheme?

Or something more compelling?


Comprising parts of me…?

The cells of my body

speaking to me…

of individuality…

of interconnectivity and healing…

Much work left to do here,

before we are free to leave.

Gathering the missing pieces


of things not yet in play…

Converging in this place of peace…

Emerging in every breath I take.

And so I speak, and pay no heed

to whether or not

anyone else is even listening.


Notes to “self” (including all Other selves choosing to read them as well)…

Crawling forward on bloody hands and bruised knees, I fall inward through the door to Center Space again.  It is all I can do to just breathe once more, safely reaching this Timeless haven…

“Whew!  That was a rough trip ’round this time,” I vocalize aloud.

I understand the necessity for going out there, and the limitations imposed by doing so, but sometimes…  I don’t know…  sometimes it’s good just to get home again…

I peer out the windows at the other loops visible from here, checking in on what might be happening in places where my consciousness has not been, then settle in to rest a while, recuperate, and consider what this latest effort has taught me.

From here I can see it All, but I can do nothing to affect it.  I must leave this sanctuary and travel the loops of Time, if I would act at all.  But out there I am so limited (and vulnerable), restricted to what lies before and behind me, in rigid order, with real consequences.  Useful for short jaunts, but always heavy with the risk of getting lost, of forgetting this Timeless place where experience can be transfigured into Knowledge.  Had it not been for the whales guiding me with their Song, I might not have made it back this time at all…

So…  what did I learn on my latest adventure into the trenches of 21st century America?

Reaching for my journal, I begin to write…

I think the Paradoxes I encountered this time around really threw me off balance, for I could not reconcile them out there.  That, in itself, was unusual, but the consequences of not being able to were devastating to both my psyche and my soul…

There was the web, for example.  It was the trees who taught me of the “underlying” community, the root structure that supports Life and Otherhood.  And perhaps it was their long sleep, leaving me without the wisdom they had so easily shared, that left me vulnerable and unaware of the changes taking place.  But as the roots awaken, and the sap begins to flow, two things have become clear to me, though explanation still escapes my troubled heart…

First, the web beneath my feet feels stronger than it ever has, but the world I interact with seems shakier and less certain than ever before.  If the web is strengthening, should we not be seeing positive results in the world around us?  Or has it truly all been for naught?  Must we accept that Life cannot survive all the damage we have done, or are my senses merely reeling under the assault of evil so blatantly exposed abroad?

Second, the non-human beings entwined in the web seem to be connecting on a deeper, more productive level.  Will they do away with predation as a way of life?  I think probably not, as sacrifice has always been a choice that some will make, and what lesson can be learned if no one/thing accepts said sacrifice?

But what is worth noting is that the boundaries between non-human species seem to be fading.  They are much more willing to accept, support, and live together in peaceful communities.  A living example for humans to follow, or a necessary survival instinct?  I do not know…

Also worth noting is the willingness of non-human beings to interact with humanity these days.  Are they reaching out in an effort to save themselves, or are they merely demonstrating what is possible when we choose to work together?  I admit struggling to “understand” their speech, but there is no mistaking their support, their generosity, and their courage in reaching out to those of us responsible for so much destruction in their world…

I also had the good fortune this time around to meet some non-humans who chose to wear human forms.  The Fey, in particular, nature spirits of many kinds, have chosen to live among us humans, as humans!  It’s fascinating to meet them, for they remember some of what they are within, especially when they are young.  To encounter them, to see that familiar spark in ancient eyes looking out from such young faces, to feel the joy of Life restricted by a very human body in a depressingly human society… well, it was both awe-inspiring and debilitating at the same time.  To want to protect them, while not wanting to interfere with their purpose here was quite the conundrum for me…

It’s almost as if all of the Earth’s true beings were reaching out to help us humans in our time of crisis, and yet we still have not made significant progress toward joining them!  Which is not to deny the work and effort of many individual people out there.  There are many doing their part to rectify things.  But none of it seems to be enough…

Laying down my journal, I allow my thoughts to drift, pondering these observations and their significance.  Lazily I let my eyes wander, looking out the windows, and wondering what my Others may be experiencing out there.  I consider heading out again, but in a totally different direction, needing to experience something a little less oppressive than where (or when) I’ve been…

“Not yet, I think,” I answer myself.  “I need to recover first.  I lost too much on this last venture, I hurt too much to want to rush back out again.  I think I’d rather read a while, catch up on others’ stories, and see what I can learn…”

And so, reaching for the journal once more, I flip back through the pages to see what entries I might have missed…


Poetry, Reflections

“Murky Vision…”

I open my eyes wide

but I cannot see

through the miasma surrounding me.

It is dark here today –

corrupt and polluted –

so that only hazy outlines stand out from the gloom…

Like silt stirred up from watery depths

to obscure what lies beneath

while sun reflects off surface waves quite brilliantly…

For One who seeks a clearer path

there is none now to see

for murky is the way of chaos

and vision fails spectacularly…

Poetry, Reflections


I stand alone, within a crowd


Calming breaths, burrowing roots

still my restless self.

Every ounce of fortitude

every spark of will

every bit of discipline

required to rein Me in…

Now a statue, not stone, but flesh

my focus turns without.

To see the world pass me by

unmoved by my existence.

In every face, despair

In every voice, fear

In every life that passes

a story of distress.

For chaos rules the world today

and wicked winds of change.

Perhaps, if I can hold my ground,

my life would feel more sane…

But even here, unmoving,

reality seeks its claim…

Lightning strikes me from above,

attacks quite unanticipated.

Raging cyclones chip away

at balance, strength, and certainty.

And flocks of birds fly overhead,

to defecate quite purposely…

Yet here I stand, immobolized,

completely unprovoking…

So how am I to name this space?

What judgment comes to mind?

How can I explain this?

Or justify my time?

Is standing still the least destructive

for me and those nearby?

Or should I slip into the flow

let chaos be my guide?

Hanging on or letting go,

the difference is extreme.

So, caught between the consequences

Immobile I remain.