I’ve been standing out here all winter waiting to see your face.
\nMy toes have become brittle and my blue lips reminisce
\nof kisses. I know You cannot melt this snow,
\nperhaps I should have a talk with Mr. Sun
\nbut I don’t want to look away from your bed,
\nto miss even your faintest subtle rustlings.<\/p>\n
Come up, unfurl my Darling, open.
\nAbsorb me in your kaleidoscope beauty;
\nyour interpretations, the intricate dance of shadow and light
\nupon your tender face, the way You open to the day,
\nhow evening smiles on You, and night time curls You up.
\nTurning, twisting about, falling between,
\nI swirl, I blaze, I beeline around and around,
\nforever captivated by your layers and shapes;
\nyour depth. I land in the middle of You,
\ndrink You up with Love, rotate around and around You, revolve
\nand see such beauty from every vantage.<\/p>\n
As long as the center is You,
\nflying in circles will get me everywhere!<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I’m here,
\nI have come all this way
\nwith nothing particular to tell You.
\nI brought these flowers
\nand water
\nin this vase
\nmade of glass
\nmade of fire
\nand sand
\non the edge of
\nfrom under
\nyour kaleidoscope sea.<\/p>\n
I look into your vastness
\nwhere your waters
\nare as clear as your skies,
\nthe place where they meet
\nis a blurring of focus
\nand there, clarity is defined.
\nYour horizon balances
\ninfinity on a speck of hope,
\ntimelessness is a pebble
\ncircling out in rings
\nand when You play,
\neven stars dance in your reflection.<\/p>\n
Your waves
\nslam and roll
\nand swirl and swell
\ncrashing into my chest
\nmy breath is gone
\nbetween inhale and exhale
\nI am lost, searching for You,
\neven the blood in my veins
\nkisses gravity’s exemption
\ngood~bye,
\nthe color drains from my face
\nwhile I smile
\nand tell You I’m alright.<\/p>\n
Warm salty tears
\ndive down
\ncarrying all they have to give,
\nall that they are, down.
\nDown to earth,
\ndown where crystals make rainbows
\nin and outside of themselves
\nabsorbing refracting reflecting
\nyour rays of light,
\ndown where my feet have walked,
\nleaving me to wander, to wonder
\nif I departed too soon
\nor ran too fast.
\nI hope You can forgive me
\nfor what I do not know.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I bow to grace
\nI trust this rhythm,
\nthe intelligence of this web
\nof beingness
\nand in it,
\nI ran to You through open fields.
\nI climbed the oak
\nfrom root tip to tree top
\nI felt your sun kissing my skin,
\nyour clouds cover my
\nvulnerability
\nwhile I bury myself,
\nyour rains make their way
\nto the depth of me
\nand I spring to life again.
\nI run towards the invisible.
\nI don’t know how to Love You, do I?<\/p>\n
You keep me away,
\nthen scream of loneliness.
\nI feel the pain in that,
\ndon’t let me add to it.
\nMy willingness
\nconforms the rebel in me
\nwhile the angels protect me
\nfrom compass’s arrow.<\/p>\n
Like a child
\nI reach for the moon,
\nwhile I learn to soar
\nto spread these wings,
\nto ride the currents of this wind,
\nsomeone else builds a rocket.
\nI’ve got to get to You,
\nthe voice of silence,
\nshines like a star
\nand the light of my Love will reach You
\neven when a day can feel like eons,
\nwhen a moment is both now
\nand light years away.<\/p>\n
This journey, my canteen full of longing
\nempties itself, rolling towards your foot prints.
\nIs there any distinction
\nfrom here to there
\nfrom You to me?
\nOh how illusions will spring
\nI ran to your well
\nbelieving in my purity
\nnaming my outstretched hands
\none bravery
\nand the other courage.
\nAnd I marvelled
\nat how one could
\ngrow so tall in a day.<\/p>\n
Aren’t we all drawn to Love?<\/p>\n
Our meeting place is high, Love,
\nall edges disappear,
\nthere is no end
\nin the space of this togetherness.
\nThat old broom sweeps away
\nthese collections of bones.
\nI return to myself,
\ncross~legged and chanting,
\nflying to where
\ntiming is perfect,
\nwhere your music
\nis my hammock
\nand your spirit
\nis the wind that sways me,
\nwhipping me
\nthen caressing me
\nsculpting
\nmy dancing body,
\nthe fire in my heart has been lit,
\nnow let me burn
\nwhile the melting candle of our Love
\nis the still meditation
\nof my soul.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Til\u2019 death do You part,
\nTell me, how can we part from ourselves.
\nInside or outside of death,
\ncontinually, we are.
\nAn old idea dies, new
\nlife begins.
\nDying has it’s place
\nwithin this circle.
\nDon’t replace old lies<\/p>\n
with new ones.
\nInside the emptiness\u2026
\nis
\nwhere You are.<\/p>\n
Impossibilities unfold
\nbefore my eyes.
\nToes in the green grass,
\nclouds hold me softly,
\nThis world giggles
\nout loud.
\nLike the moment I met You,
\nI loved You right then and there.
\nWhile the music played,<\/p>\n
my eyes received the sight of You.
\nI looked uP and kissed God
\nright on the lips.<\/p>\n
I am submerged inside
\nthis golden ocean
\nwhere
\neverything is life,
\nmy eyes received the sight of You,
\nthat first instant,
\nI saw eternity and she was smiling
\nas the death of me commenced.
\nCleansing,
\nwash, wash away
\nthese, those, your, my, moving, moving
\nideas
\nof me, of You, of this, and that, moving, moving,
\nit’s all here in<\/p>\n
this disappearing.<\/p>\n
Receded
\nwithout a reason,
\ninexplicably.
\nLightning crashes,
\nsilent,
\nand then the sound.
\nInside this thunder,
\nthis space, this nowhere,
\nI exist and still
\nI stretch uPward.
\nThe heart,<\/p>\n
it never needs a reason.<\/p>\n
Reseeded
\nbeneath down richness roots
\nBlossom
\nabove us open bloom.
\nSaid, or unsaid,<\/p>\n
just to see You, be seen by You,
\nI unfurl and burst open
\nunder this burning sun
\nI am your flower.
\nLike a possibility,
\nI don’t know impossible!!
\nSo, what do I do?
\nI grow,
\nRight here where I am..<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I haven’t a mind for this poetry
\nOnly a heart<\/p>\n
I speak no vow
\nAs sunlight
\nGives no fight flight or flinch
\nFor any shadow
\nMassive or slight<\/p>\n
I haven’t a reason for this poetry
\nHope itself is only longing<\/p>\n
Sometimes when I’m
\nDancing
\nI feel like a molecule
\nPing ping pinging around space
\nNo kin to time
\nAkin to everything
\nAgain<\/p>\n
I haven’t a body for this poetry
\nNot even a house<\/p>\n
I make no promises
\nThey do not break and are
\nUnkeepable though many keep on trying
\nWhere at zenith has the shadow gone
\nJust be<\/p>\n
I have no need for this poetry
\nOnly servitude<\/p>\n
I am
\nA moonflower
\nIn your presence I glow
\nI see your face
\nWhen I look into the sun
\nAnd lose myself
\nAgain<\/p>\n
I haven’t a shape for this poetry
\nIt’s only open space<\/p>\n
The garden grows unattended
\nand wild and wanton and gentle
\nAll I can do
\nIs flow towards You
\nThis Nectar
\nWhether or never I ever
\nMake my offering<\/p>\n
I have no vision for this poetry
\nFor yours is the face of Love<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
You are vast enough
\nto contain the whole of me
\nand more
\nyet<\/p>\n
You never believe I am caged,
\neven when I prove it to You.
\nYou turn away,<\/p>\n
You return.
\nYour revolutions;
\nmy revelations.
\nThese blue walls<\/p>\n
turn to sea, turn to sky,
\nyour Love, a constant
\nreunion with existence.<\/p>\n
If Love could speak
\nit would sing
\na song of angels.
\nI forsake everything<\/p>\n
but purity, bathe in Love’s river,
\ndrown in Love’s sea.
\nI don’t cling, I release~<\/p>\n
heart keeps beating
\nstrong pulse, frenzied,
\nblood, racing;
\ndeep, intense, crazy<\/p>\n
everything is spinning
\nyet
\nstill, everything is still.<\/p>\n
Even the mind’s chatter
\ncan only revere your heart,
\nbowing in silence,
\nego folds itself<\/p>\n
deeply and willingly
\ninto prostration at your
\nworship~worthy feet.<\/p>\n
Love is alive
\nand doesn’t need me
\nor my ideas
\nof what it is<\/p>\n
or what I wish it to be.
\nLove has no regard for reason
\nand surpasses sense effortlessly.<\/p>\n
There is nothing to do,
\nbut like Love, just be,
\nyet
\nmy every act<\/p>\n
is one of service
\nto your galaxy
\nof Love, my Love.<\/p>\n
Your domain,
\nthe black empty sky,
\nSo completely infinite
\nand open,<\/p>\n
You give space,
\nbringing light and fire,
\nYou never try, You just are.<\/p>\n
You still me, your
\nevery glance holds volumes.
\nSomeone must bring You nectar
\nmy King,<\/p>\n
let
\nit be me, enough to
\nfloat the sky and all the planets.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sitting here in this house of ruins,
\nlonging for You.
\nOpen and closed,
\nlids up, lids down.
\nBlinking eyes,
\na sure sign of life.
\nEyes for looking,
\neyes for being looked into.
\nOnce glowing,
\nthe shine now shadow, ashes, soot.<\/p>\n
Home is where you hang your heart.
\nThis heart burned
\nto the ground
\nlike witches tied to a pole.
\nInside the screaming
\nis found a perfect silence,
\nthen…the song
\nthat repeats.<\/p>\n
Lyrics of revolution,
\nRhythm that may
\nrun your ass over!Downbeat!
\nDownbeat Downbeat
\nDownbeat
\nDownbeat
\nDownbeat
\nDownbeat!<\/p>\n
Time is something I
\ncannot mention.
\nWe won’t speak of it.
\nNo clock, no calender or metronome.
\nOnly this current, this sky.
\nI don’t march,
\nI float along, flowing on…<\/p>\n
Can I talk to You
\nfrom here
\ninside this poem?
\nEven before You have read it?<\/p>\n
Or, it must be You, talking
\nto me now,
\nas the ink scratches
\nthese straight
\ncrooked, and curved lines.<\/p>\n
This never stops…<\/p>\n
In silence,
\nyour speaking is formless,
\nclear.
\nMusic and poetry give it form
\nwithout form.
\nThe tangible intangible…
\nHow can this be?
\nLike this love,
\nclear.
\nThree periods at the end of a sentence,
\ndot dot dot…<\/p>\n
Vines climb through
\nthe cracks,
\nheart~shaped leaves emerge,
\ngrow, bounce and shudder.
\nFlowers kaleidoscope themselves
\nabout these, those walls,
\nperfectly patternless.<\/p>\n
And beautiful.<\/p>\n
In rhythm,
\nwhether moving
\nor still.<\/p>\n
Sitting here in this mansion of paradise
\nlonging for You,
\ngiving thanks for the cracks in the walls
\nand the image of your face.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Said the Butterfly to the Flower I’ve been standing out here all winter waiting to see your face. My toes have become brittle and my blue lips reminisce of kisses. I know You cannot melt this snow, perhaps I should have a talk with Mr. Sun but I don’t want […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":2291,"parent":229,"menu_order":1,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1417","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1417","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1417"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1417\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2230,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1417\/revisions\/2230"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/229"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2291"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue18\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1417"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}