babies are birthed from the darkest.
the LOVE of creation, from the darkest.
the light of life from the dark.
without the current in the fluid
the brain would not spark.
in order to stop you
had to start
and so I propose being
neutral.

these days we could use some
neutrality. some of that prior unity
recognition. the initial condition.
the balanced act.
the grey only looks that way
with the blue sky shining
when the sun comes around.
contrast creates definitions.
provides a canvas for the reflection...

communal disconnections,
normalcy in alone. here,
we are meant to moan and groan
and throughly love the lust,
the bones of this life.
with the I sight the commune
becomes hindsight, the WE
shrinks down to one, alone,
wondering,

competition to get to a conclusion
just an end of some
pass-time action. choose one or
the other.
each holding its truths,
the necessary rules.

so I try to be a neutral being
standing right on the middle of
both.
I was raised on the coast,
the waves only rising and falling,
crashing, laughing
at the nights fate. each rise
rolling down into the valley, the pit.
giving time its due. then,
surface to the moon and prepare the ride
again.

the neutral being, press upon
the sides
there is only One.
allow the insight to ignite from within,
embrace the ease of reality,
regardless of perception.
be quenched, release.
ALL is One.

an ode to my stars,
I am One, learning to balance.
I thank God I witness.

I know I create what I see.
It's why I see the beauty in you.
Your shine reflects the glow.
Your grace encourages the flow.
I, bow in your honor.
Knees secure in the grit.

The eternal replenish,
The consistent persistence.
My heart beats, regularly
Checking for energy tweaks, alerts.
New moments of now.

Now I know
Each person I see, I see
Vibrationally, scattered about
Until erratically we meet.
Once eyes link,
That instant relief, the unwavering belief,
To see, everything is ok!

Stumbling, tripping, running,
Pacing home.
Structurally prepared to carry the load...
Alone or aligned with the unity previously established within.
As She prepares the family bed
United at the head,
The heart, the hands.
Take my hand, lead me,
Don't stand still,
Walk with me, get lost in
The divinity of perfect.
Of just is.
Of what is.

Emblazoned, enlightened
Our cells call out,
"Stretch far out! Spread your self thin,
A layer of embrace,
Press upon those in reach,
Force the message of unity!"

Spread out thin,
Hold close my kin,
Join again,
Force the message of
One.

She is spontaneous poetry, no need to be written,
a dam burst of emotions subtle,on what I float along,
a whirlwind at an unpredictable time of the season
looking for an intimate space to churn and churn and churn.

By now, I know this without her even hinting,
all her dark clouds will rain in torrents nonstop
in to my landscape, sultry, broad and tranquil
I am an open sky, a stage ready for changing realities
a cloudless calm now in meditative expansiveness,
ready to change from dark, cloudy turgidity
to it's contrast, white feathery fluff that's dreamy.

This time round, when she visited,she did lie naked
on my bed supine, looking at me wistfully for a while
in my mind's sky beams of morning sun criss- crossed
all the nine openings of my body tightly shut, I sat meditating.

But I felt her chaotic presence in the energy field spreading,
she hurriedly removed her clothes one by one,smiling
in the buff she alights on my lap,a butterfly on a flower was her,
by and by a sweet heaviness enveloped my *****, in union with hers

I hear the primordial boom of the big bang, refining as an "Om"
travelling sans any medium it goes outwards to expanding universe.
to the 1"Chidakasha" where everything begins and go beyond.

Her storm energy, Tantric, seeks alleviation of existential pain,
I hear my glowing inner eye whispering in  light to the far galaxies,
In one form she is so much, past present and future converged,
She is 2"Mahatripurasundari", great enchantress of the three worlds.
Shakthi, the feminine energy that moves earth, heaven and hell,
Kali, the dark energy, seeking sublimation through catharsis.

On me she moves like a tortoise deliberately,my nervous system reads,
She would defeat the hare and win the laurel, in yogic, trance I discern.

Ive never been in to selecting pain.
naturally not
a woman that chooses to suffer.
three times birthing another,
the transition so temporary,
this pain I sit in.

the tension in relations
though
have always been my escape.
from here, your mind seems so far.
confuses me naturally
as I want to just understand who you are.
why… the attraction, the singular pull
to you.

you hold back, intentionally
because you choose too.
and I see, I see….
I just cannot reciprocate.
nor relate. my heart grows in your absence.

I may know its just practice,
my heart whispering, just practice
the dance of give and take, of
patience.
just allow what is, in this very moment.

so in this moment, an apple tree winks at me
the crimson art show reminds me
my garden grows slow as fall peaks
the ground still alive.
in this moment the air breathes
she embraces me, tells me she loves me
for you.
she knows its what I need.
to hear I Love You keeps me here,
free to keep doing my work,
the LOVE calling me home…
I longing to answer.

my suffering always related to love.
its where I choose, repeatedly,
to embrace pain for the heart.
I can stand in the rain and
receive the downpour of You.
at night, when it dries
I sit in deep thought...

my virgo is rising
the star self conflicted
by water and earth.
knowing what it is to flow
and to stand ones ground,
open to change over time
as the river beats the rough edges down
to dust…
molding the strict rules of dirt.

ultimately
things will be.
I will finally see, the questions settled.
you will still be there,
either consciously next to me
or off on your journey.
ultimately, I will be free
of the need to have anything that keeps me
here, interested and invested in now.
you keep my mouth, my heart, my mind
here,

now I will move to the next moment.
holding thought of you close.
wishing you were right here
so I can read this to you.
so I can press my lips upon you,
and whisper my whole self to you,
and you, the first…

the chance to not be misunderstood.

Since the moment
Your presence was known
The shift got intense.
Child's play is of
Yester days. The experience cleared,
Followed by turbulence
By the deep seeded desire
The longing
To end my loneliness.

And yes, I've dealt with this,
Too.
It's not my lonely ending with
You,
It's the reflection you prove,
The proof... I don't know
How I knew,
Your smile perhaps was a clue.

The proof, the puzzle being recognized
So clearly at my eyes
And then the reality,
You, blind me. Your energy absorbs
Me.
How is this possible...
I feel my feet planted firmly
My head tilted to it's star,
Back straight, fluid prepared -
Then you're there
And surges flare.
I only want to hold you close.

I need some air
Meet me in the trees.

it moves rapidly
each world is contained within
gliding through times stance
preparing to birth, yes, yet again…

yet if you die
with your visions in your head
you commit to death your world.
your last breath, your last chance
to expel your perspective.


poets do it best, maybe.

bodies and planets do the dance,
they interlock at the birth, and express
the signs of things,
holding hands, until the death.
the vessel destined for the dirt.
the soul joins the rest.

those flashes, those deep seeded facts,
the ones you know without knowing,
in fact, those are your truth.
the ones needed to be spoke,
sung or sculpted. however you feel good.

fears keep us from doing this,
plus we forget who WE really is,
the connecting fabric of the witness,
WE. the basis for creation,
each perspectives experience
is necessarily different.
time space needs peripheral vision.


to die with your world trapped inside, man...
maybe
if I look close enough in your eyes…
I can capture the light.

Nina
sing a song for me.
**** a tune for me. drum bamboom for me.
Nina, sing to me.
reset with me. 432 for me.
I hear you.

Nina I hear you
singing… your words are
quiet plainly the beauty of the cords
strummed for me. or, at least it seems.

Nina, you are singing to me.
I hear you calling, me.
taunting my harmony,
plucking my keys, you and Jean.
Nina, what is it you see?
What is it I am to see?

the music of things,
I can feel the planets moving.
circling, looping. the air whips
the curve of my lips and stuns me.
it arouses me, induces screams of love.

silently, inwardly, slowly releasing into the vine.
stretching my fingers individually,
stroking the strings,
getting good at things,
Nina sings to me,
and I feel good.