Chest
There is a whole Universe inside my chest
and my Heart is the Sun that neither rises nor sets
But it does eclipse from time to time;
the swirl of energy sets its course
to turn and turn, becoming a black hole;
swallowing everything it can,
the universal devourer, before it
bursts open again and pulsates
one billion new stars, burning aflame
in the cavity of this Universe.
From these stars will come a thousand ideas,
one hundred places that I will go
whether here on Earth or in the land of dreams
or anywhere a trance can take me;
these stars will form constellations,
their light qualities attracting energies
from other universes so that they become
a giant matrix in an endless sky.
The dark matter, the stars, the sun,
and the wind want to take up space--
to stretch out over endless territory
and proclaim their Beauty to the Night.
They will also shrink and contract and
sometimes they will even die or explode
or simply fade away because everything
is temporary in this unseen universe.
Unseen but felt is my Heart,
the eternal star of the I AM,
known through the Ages, through the lands.
to the Ancestors, through the wandering
River of the Milky Way and
woven with the great ribbon of Life.
That is my Heart.
Sovereign queen of the Universe
that is inside of my chest.
Anyway
Past lives, past versions
we came together
but fate intervened.
We know each other
from long ago.
In a time that
predates the linear
we met and
a strong bond
was formed.
There was a stitch
in the folded patterns
of Time
where you knew
all of the steps
to my dance
and I knew yours
as well.
I can't remember
a time when
we were strangers
but equally cannot
remember how we met
and who we've been
to each other since.
Our bodies show
different ages
our lives have
pursued different paths
but still they touch
and when they do,
a memory of
something older
and stronger
--a frisson of meaning
ripples back to us.
You smile and
I see it in your eyes.
I laugh and you
hear it in my voice.
Deep down we know
and we've always known:
we can walk
a million miles
in opposite directions,
can incarnate as
this or that
--different forms of you,
a full variety of me--
And yet through
time and space
and iterations of recognition
we call
it Love anyway.
Sorrow
Sorrow sighs deep within me,
a sigh that sings prelude
to a mighty chorus of sobs.
Tears and grief
of the ages.
It rolls through my chest--
nameless, faceless
but omnipresent, omniscient
From whence it came,
I do not know.
It could be some past
visiting me one last time--
or maybe a future
that will die
and I will come to mourn.
Grief, sorrow--
they are not linear companions.
Their stories are circular
and if it is not one thing
then it will be the next.
on and on.
So much sorrow.
So sings my Heart.
I can be lost to tears
because it is my human duty to be so.
To grieve and to hold myself
as a precious delicate vessel
of such raw, infinite
transcendental emotion.
To weep is to know
some part of life
in its existence, whole.
Un fragmented.
Complete and ready
to dissolve itself
back into the Mystery,
leaving me with a space
to return to water
through a thousand tears
again
This Apathy
The morning rises
replacing the dreamscape.
I carry in the apathy
that I traveled with
overnight.
Winter mornings are silent.
No birds to rouse me.
No entering heat to warm me.
I think, "I am alone"
and therefore, I am.
My mind wants to
eddy on something
but doesn't know what.
My heart is still
and whispering too quietly
for me to hear.
My state of being swings
between the allness
of the Divine
and absolutely nothing at all.
This apathy feels old--
too old to tie to
my mother or grandmother,
though I know
they've lived with it, too.
The ragged DNA cells
of a long suppressed matriarchy
try to open
like premature buds
in the spring
only to die and wither
once more.
The ancestors knock knock knock
gently on the door
of my awareness
and await my bid
to allow them enter.
They walk with me silently
never far away
until then.
Change is happening
but apparently not for me,
and maybe not fast enough.
The life I long for
seems tied to the end
of an invisible
and never-ending string.
We must rejoice in the journey
I know this.
But today it feels difficult
to even want to feel
simple things
like the opportunity
to once again
greet the day
and be alive.