Marya Mann : Blog : Divinations 2025

Divinations 2025

Aloha, Kakou! Love to us All!

Happy New Year! May 2025 bring you fulfillment of all your best dreams. My gift to you is a poem that I penned while considering how Nature resolves conflict. Called “THIS IS THE FUTURE,” it is included below.

Most of us feel fortunate to live as we do, and nothing is permanent. Change is always on the horizon because the Universe is an ongoing experiment.

As conscious beings in the divine petri dish of this living lab called Earth, we have one big question to answer: Do we want to be the best version of human beings possible, or do we want to ache, complain, and worry because misguided people bought into the false belief that profits and power over others were more important than loving people?

The tragedies of our modern times weigh heavily on all of us. We are all traumatized by the modern use of weapons by offenders who behave violently. When friends and clients speak about the wars around the globe, I hear this a lot: “I don’t know how people can be so violent and inhumane.”

They could be talking about the Middle Eastern wars, the war for Ukraine, the War on Poverty, the War on Drugs, the War on the Middle Class, the War on Racism, the War on the Climate, the War on Gender, or the War on Government. The same dysfunctional human dynamics wrap their threads into knots to produce every so-called war.

Misunderstanding the nature of Nature seems to be at the root of all our problems. Lacking appreciation for the good in others feeds the dysfunction. Loving and learning how Nature harmonizes the polarities can show us how to unfold a better tomorrow.

I hope you like the poem, a gift for your good hearts, the broken hearts, and our regenerating hearts. I invite you to share this with others. If we are willing to reconnect with Nature again, we can trust Her to kiss us, wake us, and show us the way.

Love to you this year and always!

Blessings and Gratitude,
Marya

THIS IS THE FUTURE

The soft grey gold of a cloudy sunrise
shimmers up the slope of Hualalai Volcano.
Cloudy mist says to the mountain,
“You are too dense. I need to get away from you.”

Says the mountain to the mist, “You are too wavering.
“You should be more like me. A nice solid flavoring.”
“Ha!” goes the mist, “You are a stick in the mud!
Nothing much for savoring.”

It goes on. Cloaked in the morning Sun, they wail and argue,
two old friends, mountain and the mist, faceless wanderers.
They hunt the hilly past in widening gyres, chasing their own tails.

If they shifted only a tiny bit, they would sense
the splendor of dancing. No chase is needed.
With leaps and glissades, a picture-perfect love could be seeded.

They would watch awestruck as the rain falls on Earth,
be dazzled by ozone, hear the green grow, push for a new birth.
They could mingle cosmos and clay, sprout multi-colored spores,
make ecstasy and more. But there they are, like elderly neighbors,
consumed by blood lust, revenge, and illusion
preaching to everyone, “Love your neighbors.”

They have the most powerful musical score in the world,
with four hands sitting at the piano,
but there is no sound. They are too busy fighting.
They refuse to play.

“You impede me,” one says. “You are unfit!”
“You are a candle,” says the other. “Unlit.”
One goes into a rage, runs for the fire.
The other says, “You blind me with your overblown flightiness.”
“You are a hangover,” one claims.
“You are no fun,” the other laments.

Overnight, they quarrel. As Light comes,
they turn to gaze again and see each other,
as if for the first time, same mist, same mountain,
but no longer greed and unreason,
no more rioting in negative self-love.

Now, awake, one looks at the other,
their mother in another life,
and they discover again, there is no other.
“We’re not handling this right,” they say together.

With this one little shift, water droplets coil into a new aim,
sudden gusts of power here and there,
and the mountain and the mist play a new game.
“I really love how you ground me,”
says the cloud to the volcano.
“I love how you sweep through the air,” says the Earth.
“Could you spread your wings and carry me forever?”
“I can, I will, I do,” the mist whispers.
“If you give me space.”
“I do,” replies the volcano. “I will lava you always!”
A perfect match, made in heaven on Earth.

This is the future. We start small, being ourselves,
living in the flow, shimmering up the mountainside.
Nobody said it would be easy or fast, becoming a luminous being.
They only said it would be worth it, like the pain of labor,
giving birth to a new creation. The horror, the suffering,
the storm. Salvation, serenity, and the rainbow.
Recognition, perfection, knowing there is no other.

Shame and blame wear themselves out.
Hollow hearts turn to dust and go down the drain.
Everything and everyone is revealed,
recycled, recalled, rejuvenated.
Rejoicing in the future, peace we reclaim.

Fire turns to water and a peace we never left.
Green leaves rise out of ashes. We forgive old clashes.
There are no more wars, no more crashes.
Go now. Kiss and make up.
Go then, and tell the neighbors.

Realized by Marya January 17, 2024

P.S. I invite you to read about upcoming opportunities for self-discovery, inspiration, and personal and professional growth on my website at www.maryamann.com.

If you would like to schedule private sessions with me, learn more, and read how others have benefitted from them, please go here: QUANTUM HEALING

Love Continuum Events will resume on Saturday, February 15. Please mark your calendars and stay tuned!

RAINBOW PHOTO by Koakane Green, D.C.