Breathe with Eve

12/12/2025

12/12/2025

Dance when you’re broken open.

Dance when you’ve torn the bandage off.

Dance in the middle of fighting.

Dance in your blood.

Dance when you’re perfectly free.

Struck, the dancer hears a tambourine inside her,

like a wave that crests into foam at the very top,

Begins.

Maybe you don’t hear that tambourine,

or the tree leaves clapping time.

Close the ears on your head,

that listen mostly to lies and cynical jokes.

There are other things to see, and hear.

Music. Dance.

A brilliant city inside your Soul!

In the house of lovers

the walls are made of songs

the floor dances and the music never stops.

Rumi ❤️❤️❤️

12/12/2025

I hope you find warmth
on the coldest of days.
I hope you never feel alone
Or forgotten.
I hope you find light
in the darkest of hours
And know that every star
shines for you
to light your way
back home ..
Back to who you truly are.
I hope you find love
When you’ve forgotten
how to love yourself.
And last but not least
I hope you always remember
that you are worthy
of all that feels missing
during the hardest of days.
And that no one stays
lost, dark or
left out in the cold forever ...

🖋️C.E. Coombes
🎨Kurti Andrea

Serendipity Corner ❄️

12/12/2025

“I am the first and the last.
I am she who is honored
and she who is mocked.
I am the w***e
and the holy one.”

These mystical seemingly contradictory lines open Thunder, Perfect Mind, an ancient Gnostic poem unearthed in 1945 near Nag Hammadi in Egypt. Likely written in the 1st or 2nd century CE, Thunder is not a doctrine, but a living voice. A presence. A divine paradox. A revelation wrapped in contradiction. She speaks not from the margins, but from the center of everything: the feminine principle that holds the world in its terrible and holy tension.

She is everything.
She is the union of opposites.
She is what has been forgotten—and what must now be remembered.

This is no relic. Thunder, Perfect Mind reads like it was written for us, here and now, in an age of polarity, fragmentation, and longing for integration. Her declarations shake the binaries we’ve inherited and speak directly to the feminine soul that has been silenced, sanctified, exploited, and resurrected across millennia.

To meditate on Thunder is to listen to the soul of the cosmos speak in the voice of a woman who is not just divine, but whole.

In Gnostic tradition, Thunder is understood as a manifestation of Sophia, the personification of divine wisdom. Yet she is more than Sophia; she is Shekinah, Shakti, The Black Madonna, and the unknowable face of the immanent God. Her voice embodies and inhabits the sacred tension between matter and spirit, light and shadow, human and divine.

The poem refuses to resolve these opposites. It doesn’t tell us who she is, it tells us she is all of it. She is the thunderclap of awakening, the perfect mind behind the veil. She cannot be contained because she is the container.

“I am the knowledge of my name.”

Unknown Author is honoured ♥️