Writers
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…
Out of Nothing, Everything,
Awareness Dancing with itself,
Singing into Creation
Myriad unfolding Ways,
Life in Love with Being.
