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Garza Guerrera/Warrior Heron: Circles of Cycles #3

Garza grabbed her garment from the earths floor and covered her exposed flesh to return on the journey redeemed from the mystical pool of blue. In the dam of her palm held the gifted blue tanzanite stone, she gazed upon it with wonder, investigating its ever shifting shades and colours a voice slithered to the forefront;


'Do you like your gift?' a man smoothly questioned.


Garza saw the source of these riddling words holding onto a branch with his arms above head to what appeared to be a decaying tree entangled in senecio confusus* (Mexican Flame Vine). The sight of this strong individual brought back the shakes in her knees, Garza felt the grounding she had developed melting away amidst the heat that radiated off of him.


'Yes.' She giggled coyly. Garza couldn't recognize this version of herself, entranced by the image presented.


'I watched you swimming, you have a magnificent physique. Strong, curvaceous, deliciousss.' each words seemed to slide unto the next, ending with a light hiss that drew her ears in. Alienating from her knowing she began to strut towards him, Garzas hips lead every step with sultry motivation.


'Come back to me Garza, remember obey my words and you will travel this journey unharmed,' the Father of the sky encouraged. Yet the desires that controlled Garzas flesh magnetized her towards the opposing direction. Eyes scanning the muscular flesh before her muted the voice she had been following causing her to become a slave to her lust filled thoughts.


'You think so?' looking into the endless windows of the mans soul. With the vibrations of pride 'I woke up like this,' slithered off her tongue possessing her lips to a devious smirk.


He leaned towards her ear, leaving a heated kiss of his breath along her neck 'Lets go.' Slipping his fingers along side hers he took her hand, the perfect balance of softness and strength she chose to believe was good. Being touched with such authority and control brought forth an electric current targeting her whole center. The fireworks of sensations left her hovering above reality, like a balloon attached to a wrist of its owner bouncing against the natural flow of the wind. But Garza crumbled to the want of being held over the knowing she was headed in the wrong direction.The initial lap of this rollercoaster ride blinded Garza with curiosity, so much to see, so much to feel, so much new. While her body floated above the ring leader, confusion began to tangle her mind as she saw the circle she was on course to repeat. How is this happening her insides debated;

'I know I am rotten through and through so far as my old sinful nature is concerned. No matter which way I turn, I can't make myself do right. I want to, but I can't. When I want to do good, I don't. And when I try not to do wrong, I do it anyway. But if I am doing what I don't want to do, I am not really the one doing it; the sin within me is doing it.' -Romans 7:18-20

'Stop.' she said kindly, uninformed that the wind muddled the emotions she desperately needed to be seen.


'Stop!' Garza repeated a little louder. A cloud of fear attached to her dialog causing her expression to float away unnoticed. Running the sickening loop again the false illusion of forever looked back upon her, laughing in response to her discontent.


'STOP RIGHT NOW!' she roared, bringing her feet to land with assurance along the Lords ground.

Reality: I chose lust, victimization and control over the liberation of Gods love.

'What's your problem?' he scuffed, 'Someone obviously doesn't know how to have a little fun.' hissing in self righteousness.


These arrows of venom pierced Garzas skin causing a radiating ache to incapsulate her heart. Pain deepened, as Garza held the heart shape pendent against her chest which carried the name of her mother. We've felt this cycle of belittlement for generations tracing back amidst our ancestors. 'I'm tired, I don't want to hold onto this root of trauma any longer.' the burdens heaviness strung a single tear down Garzas cheek.


'Don't be a baby, you can't even remember your mother, stop feeling sorry for yourself.' arrow after arrow was spat upon Garza forcing her to drop to her knees crying out to the heavens above;

Sky Father, hear my cry.

I repent for following earthly pleasures over trusting the voice you firmly instilled with in me.

I want to come home.

Take heart, faithful is the Lord for he will make you strong and guard you from the evil one. -2 Thessalonians 3:3

Suddenly the attractive exterior which masked the man crumbled to sand revealing a serpent, vulnerable and exposed it fled to its rotting tree waiting patiently to feed on another victim through charm & flattery. Garza saw she sat directly where she entered, stone in her hand, as she gazed upon it once more she recognized an additional silver circle attached to its corner.


'Add it to your necklace,' her mothers heart shared 'that way we can be heard for generations to come.' Obedient to the suggestion Garza unclasped the necklace holding their heart she added a key to unlock their voice. Binding the chain back around her neck she held the pendants up to her throat, affirming her stance she began to breathe with intention. Sinking deeply into herself a knowing echoed;

'No matter what happens, God will be there. I am not alone.'

Reality: Restored journal entry of my mothers.




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