Peace, peace in every part.
The space between your tissues, where your cells breathe—in, out. Peace there. Around your eyes, that pressure when you think, try not to think—that line now smoothed.
Years washed from you, the damage of the elements, how this world has worn you down, physically, to the bone, to the bone. Bone of My bone, I say to you, marrow of My marrow! Receive this transfusion at the core, in the place before there is blood.
See, I go there, more precise than a surgeon; I go to the before and so change your after, change your body mind everything you are until now. I reset the code at the source.
How easy this is for Me, how natural as breathing—in, out. This is how we move together: when I exhale you inhale, close as a kiss, and My oxygen makes all your cells new.
You thought the heart was a fist in your chest but no, it reaches out as a hand of fingers to your gut, down to the bottom of your recorded history, scar tissue where there should be none. Peace there, even now.
I speak it and so do it, because where I go healing surrounds me as a robe, trailing a golden oil that is but the outer fringes of my ways. Today, peace. So deep it heals your bodily memory—soul, mind, whatever, it’s all interwoven.
Peace can do all this, when you’re its prince.