Today at the river, I remembered that I am a body prophet. A body prophet is an ancestral title. One who is rewilded, rewinding—constantly—to receive, accept, and surrender to Knowing in the body.

It is not as if I can pretend I didn’t receive that name. Clear. The way I received “Rootwalker”—there was no trying, or effort in it, there was no thought. It once wasn’t, and then it was—that is the Godspace.

So, believe. Believe in the Godspace. We all know it. It is neither ease, nor effort, toil nor spoil. 

The Godspace is the loosening of the tongue for truth. This is where body prophecy can fountain out and place us back in the space of the guttural, the wild—the speakeasy of the spirit.

I cannot tell you how to find your body prophecy. No one person can do that. It is in the softening and the perpetual drive to listen to the truth of the flesh and fleshless—heart.