that strong sensual presence
whispering, speaking softly
enticing me to dance
to move and flow
she had left, allowing the work
waiting to see, waiting for me
Psalm reminded me today,
this journey is like licking honey from a razor.
living on the edge
such sweet pain
If the blade is sharp one barely feels it
The sweetness of life, accessing all senses
to gain entry to the point of all and No Thing.
A mentor told me the journey is messy,
those teachers clean and unscathed,
well think for the hills he said.
For those who are scarred, bloodied and torn have indeed walked the path.
This gives solace as the blood drips from the wounds,
climbing to heights and having to anchor in the depths.
I know the light well,
the dark spectrum, through the colour and whites
venturing all terrain like a forward scout,
clearing the way and mapping the inner landscapes
She carries me well, time to time she must rest, adjust to our union.
She knows the importance, recover, sleep, be in the world but not of it.
Times of gateway openings burst and catapult us into the magenta and beyond.
She knows, she knows
Allow, surrender, and float when weary
She has learnt that to splash around, and try to control is certain drowning.