I received a gift of heaven

2013-04-29 15.01.48

I received a gift of heaven
wrapped in glowing light.
Within it breathes in silent wonder.
With each breath it connects me more deeply to mystery.
Waves transport me, dark and warm,
mauve tones of rose,
unfurling with passion
in regions of my soul.

To connect with myself in my heart.
Through my outspread body.
Knowing that I am my higher self.
That I carry a spirit within.
A gift that develops faith
and trust in the process
of continually being in the present.
Being in love.
With myself. With the divine
Being harbored in my womb,
This kernel of pulsating life.
* * *
Stripped
the onion unrolls
its fine pink shell
made of tears.
It sings into the earth
a song of beginnings
and arduous passages.
It harbors small forms
wings of angels.
Arching deep opalescence.
The surrender of
small fish rising from silver waters.
• • •
I look into the big void.
Sometimes there an echo resounds.
Casting names yet unknown.
Shadows foretelling movement.
A stronghold of life.

The smell of rain unfolds around me.
In the stillness: a pounding heartbeat.
Like galloping horses.
African violets continue to bloom.
I think of matter borne into dust.
Particles into particles,
Flesh building in blood simple facets.
A mystery so old
It holds me locked in silent wonder.

* * *
Silver fish spurt in droplets
from sidewalk puddles.
I sit and sift strands of feelings,
from my womb to my heart and back.
I hear an echo.
A mysterious mermaid,
a siren in the still deep.
I listen for its call.
It resonates with the crescent moon.
Alongside still water
a shadow casts its beauty in silhouette.
How can one voice be so pure?
I follow the movement of the heart-opening notes.
Hands united in prayer,
I sing my song to all the goddesses.
To the angel wings, feathering.
To flowers and animal spirits.

In meditation I saw
Deer, wolf, lion and whale.
Each mothering me.
Each showing me the way.

One gentle and fierce nuzzle
at a time.

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Three-part movement

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Heart.
Carnation rose –
unfurling being,
rings the bell of images,
beholding memory.

Dewdrops of saffron light
sing in the echo;
the rising source,
pure, subliminal, ever-present.

A wondering wish
of wild revelry.
The reckless dreamer
gazes into the blue beyond.

Rhythm.
Unlike the steadiness of beat.
Rather the varying harmony of waves
washing the shore,
from hushed brushes,
to crashing tides.

Or the sacred proportion within
a fern unfolding,
Spiraling in golden unity –
its green-apple transparency against the rays of sun.

A visual graph marking,
in progression,
the irregular order of the cosmos.

Trust.
A symphony in endless acts.
As long as life.
My work in progress.

Sleeves folding back repeatedly.
Breathing.
Allowing the process to happen.
Acknowledging the other.
Saying yes to being.
Knowing that I am enough.
Smiling when I get off balance.

With each turn, the core
opens, in contrast of light and shadow,
a little more, exposed.