This existence is one,
All is connected,
You, me, creatures, objects, great and small
The beginning and end,
Entwined with us all
Out of the nothing, the something formed,
With innate innocence,
A peaceful being of neutrality,
Uninfluenced by established humanity,
This is the beginning of each little galaxy,
Inside another,
The endless universe,
That composes all,
The value free existence
Neither good nor evil,
Just, just;
This is all,
But then enters complexity,
Of competing beings,
Vying for sustained existence,
In a space of resource finitude,
This is millions upon millions of life forms,
Organic material,
Forces of nature,
Air, water, fire, earth,
Coalescing upon and as a miraculous heavenly body,
In an endless sea of space,
Thus this is home,
We,
We are,
And we are
home,
Tag: Theology
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.
The Mystic
She thinks in verse,
In a spectrum of iridescent hues,
Her wonderings and worryings,
Are as a mystic,
Learning her craft,
This is a long road
One she is both
Always and never
Alone,
The great awakenings she found
Were the shock
To the system,
The test,
The cure,
To sustain life,
To blossom the hidden bud,
Within her core,
She is learning everything
With new eyes,
A new mind,
A new love,
Appreciation,
Of life,
Of light
Calling
There is something
That pulls at my core,
That nudges me awake
With gentle urgency,
Immediate need for something that has always been,
Unknowingly,
Within me,
never before could
My mind envision
A future that I might perhaps
Come to see,
The universe opens up to me
And speaks
That I should know:
The universe is always here,
Always aware,
It bends and folds,
Twists, turns,
And we,
Things made of Stardust,
Move with it,
For we are part and parcel
Of this thing called creation,
And as I feel this movement in my soul
I know something,
This unnamable,
never fully knowable everything
Is calling me
The Nothing
Late at night (now early morning)
I lie awake
and dwell on nothing
-the Nothing
that created Something
that is Everything,
and what created the Nothing,
and on and on…
She of Letters 