SIMPLY BEING

Category: Poetry (page 2 of 5)

Loving Orbit

My monthly cycle orbits the moon,
in a state of deep devotion and love.

It comes close to the fullness and beatitude, bleeding with the light,
then moves farther and further,
crying silently in the dark, a few months later.

Is it about lost opportunity, dead possibilities?
Or new beginnings, unfamiliar destinations?

It is caught in a divine dance,
it is not fickle-minded at all
it is its own little moon
white, red and dark maroon

shining its light inside me.

True Dancers

We are the true dancers,
The ones who fling the hands with abandon, throwing our waists and hips out into the world.

We are the ones who trust our Partner unconditionally, follow them unquestioningly,
We know no fear or doubt, our ego having lost all substantiality, submitted at the altar of the Universe and its mighty winds.

We dance with courage and merriment, placing our weight fairly and squarely in the willing arms of our Partner,
We falter occasionally, sometimes failing to see the light, feeling as though about to fall,
but the hands grasp us firmly, no sweat or nervousness in sight.

We dance in perfect sync and rhythm, eyes searching for the light, ears open for the music,
Often dancing in the silent dark for hours, or years, on end.

Our senses are limited, but the hearts are free and unbounded, filled with loving trust,
Because we know It knows.

I will love

As joy begins,
let it swell and surrender
sweeping all within its grasp and wake,
filling up lives and hearts, lighting homes and offices, spilling on to the streets and turning on fireplaces.

The streets are sprayed with gold.

And we are left gasping and grasping,
wondering at the magic of it all.

Dreaming and weaving dreams, smiling and singing,
amazed that any of this may even last,
grasping at the magic of the moment, its evanescence and luminescence.

Beauty lasts but a moment,
art lives a lifetime,
statues in stone rest for centuries.

We exist a second, our stories live a little longer,

And I will love as long as it lasts.

Amme, Why?

The world is always asking me to change.

It knows more than I do; it’s been here a lot longer than I have.

It begins innocuously enough, talk less. Oh, why? You know you have to give others a chance to speak too.

When you know what they are saying is, we JUST DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU ANY MORE.

But you shut up nicely because you don’t want to shut anyone else down.

And then it moves to, don’t talk all that much, not with him or him or him or them. Oh, why? He’ll think you like him. But I do! Ohh, you do? Well, you have to be safe. Don’t let him get close. Ahh, therein lies the problem… I already did!

And so it goes on, talk less. Go out more. Hang out more. Don’t let them get a wrong impression. Don’t give anyone a chance to talk… and so on.

Amme, I am so tired and spent, playing these games and jumping through hoops.

Amme, you never instructed me much as a kid, and now the world is hellbent on giving me instruction… or giving me hell for not playing along.

Amme, why does it feel like I was born free and happy, only to act smart and play dumb? Why is there a seemingly mysterious world of interaction and power play, and how do I learn the tricks?

Amme, is there a world for someone like me?