Talking this morning, a lot, your gift to me, a shared discovery / in the midst of Not Knowing, All in its own Way, beautifully / reflected moments arising out of openness, showing up, / a small taste, love given, yourself, Being, in-seeing…
Fell down a rabbit hole
again, a couple days ago,
mind like a mad hatter, filled
with clashing illusions…
None of the stories real,
however much I believe
they are, which maybe,
at the moment, I don’t…
In the old ways
we were always
dying for her love,
living alone for his.
Something may have
been born into eternity
out of such a union,
But that way is past,
and now a new way
must be found…
Waiting…
for someone,
something,
myself,
this painful core,
to burst forth,
set me free,
and reveal a direction
that moves me
along…
Believing in her spirit and her
courage to be free, I once again
become this lone heart bursting forth,
like a vast tree leafing into spring…
To tend to the well is to replenish our devotion to the deep feminine aquifer for which our world is thirsting. When we recognize ourselves as a tributary of that greater upwelling, we can allow things to be decided, spoken, and created not by us, but through us.
