Love,
Do you think the burning stars look on in pity
Of what became of their stardust brethren,
Who aim bombs at each other over disputed words?
Who sacrifice innocence over their idolatry?
Or do you think they see the quieter explosions
Of love,
Like ours?
That make living any existence worth while?
I hope they do,
I hope they see the love and dream of when they too
Are only dust particles in the universe reconstituted into life,
Conjuring that which is love.
Tag: Philosophy
Awakening Showers
While in the hospital last year I experienced an awakening. As my treatment progressed, self-care was my primary concern (as a mom self-care is often neglected). I slowly became accustomed to caring for my own vessel as I might a new babe; therein it is fitting that patients here were given Johnson & Johnson’s baby wash to bathe.
In bathing, as I was cleansed with this scent of infancy, under a large rain-like shower head I was overcome by beauteous imagery. I could envision myself, as myself, and also of a diety carefully bathing, and from the soapy froth forming creation, light, and life; A goddess carefully combing her hair and the lose strands that fell becoming new beings, out of the coils- bits of divine DNA. How carefully she would need to care for herself, to keep all of existence in balance. Every move the being made, having an impact on heavenly bodies and their atmospheres, on the weather of the cosmos- all related to her own equilibrium.
I went to then mediate, and write on this. I felt a humbled and yet honored sense of connection as I had been gifted a vision that I might best be able to understand the powers that be, and how to grasp the importance and lesson of caring just as delicately for the life that is me. My heart swells with disbelief and amazement for the images bestowed upon me, which are beyond my normal scope of thinking. I am in awe of how such thoughts came to me, and of considering: why? I continue to wonder of this experience and recognize new meanings for my own being, and for others, for the earth, nature, all of which are in need of care, as even a mother deity would need, in order to keep the everything well cared for. I think of the advice on airplanes to put on one’s own oxygen mask first, and on the idea that “cleanliness is next to godliness”, — I appreciate that in letting myself accept the open arms in a hospital setting, and baring myself to the unknown, I Iet in a light that I had been warding off while not taking the same care with myself, as I had others, and thereby not leaving space for the divine to enter.
Dichotomy
Self Discovery,
In the pursuit of hunting words,
I find my take on the infinite,
My discussions with the universe,
The supreme beyond the capacity for any
Being,
It is everything, and is in everything,
And we are composed of it,
Stardust,
But more,
Greater,
Stardust creator,
I would not call it God,
For surely it is beyond,
Beyond concern,
And of concern for even immortal creations,
Does our sin offend it?
Surely not,
For we are created of it’s complex knots,
Of seeming contradictions,
Good and evil,
Up and down,
In and out:
Dichotomy.
The Illusion
There has been a crack
In me
And I am open,
Yoke exposed,
I am taking in, taking on, trying on
The world in ways I’ve never before seen,
And I am aware of
The illusion in which we swim,
I am aware,
And tempted to scream it from the mountain tops,
But that is not my mission,
I thought knowledge was,
My mission involves learning
To swim through the illusion in a different way,
I have not found out yet how,
But I am open,
Finding pieces of my broken shell,
And reassembling self,
Equipping for this mission,
To be in and of the world,
To simultaneously see, not see, taste, touch, and transform the illusion.
New Skin
This is my new skin,
Brown,
It looks the same,
But upon closer inspection,
You will see
A glow,
A confident light,
Of something new,
Beneath,
Like a child’s smirk
Beholding a secret,
This secret is unfolding
Slowly,
Sensually,
Inch by inch, revealing
A person who wasn’t,
And was always there,
But never known,
Never seen
This skin is new,
It’s tight,
It’s the scent of a new born babe,
This is the babe
Of me
Being born,
Mentally, emotionally,
theologically,
Into the physical,
And this is just the beginning,
This labor is a process,
Unique in it’s course,
And from the womb of my mind I will grow,
To pass through and become
Who I am,
And who I am to be,
A spiritual vessel,
Clothed in
Skin.
Contagious Light
The light that touches us,
Touches all of us,
But sometimes we are subject to being touched
By that same light,
Through another,
And we are inspired,
To seeing stars with brighter eyes,
Color with more depth;
To appreciate the smile of a homeless man,
The plight of a new mother,
The stories of lives clear across the globe;
To want to give more of yourself
To a force that is beyond your knowing;
To wanting to know and face the difficult;
To being a fuller version of yourself,
To exhibiting your own
Contagious rays of light
She of Letters 