my spiritual heart creates
tondo    a constant
whirl
reaching into my soul
depths.   refining
cleaning
glistering
me
preparing me
anointing me
washing my feet

my heart is a tondo
circulates my essences
infinitely
in my body
washing me

the brain is a tondo
that dies last
after killing the body
from
inside
out
washing me

for my death


c. 2023 Roberta Compton Rainwater

We are but fractions of God and so with you I feel closer to whole.

I distant the cold the closer the hold.

One hundred voices together sounds closer to him.

There's one letter in I, four letters in them.

the sky leaves traces of light on my skin
the lunar plexus is singing
I'm receiving these images from the future
the missing steps of memory come between  us
do not touch this fiery boundary cause you might
melt me down into a sweet oblivion
it's impossible not to love you from this edge
of a palimpsest full of wonder

the sea fills me up till there is no more space for dying
thoughts turn themselves into a boundless edge
the wind tells me there is only wonder
seashells have forgotten the stories of the depth
my hands want  to rediscover their dreaming
wild birds try the geometry of the sky
and whispers they become

the night is darker on your lips
my hips are dreaming while
your touch is searching for its meaning

Ours is something
To be explained away;
I love you
But– I think to myself.
I love you
But– there will be a day I do not.
I love you
But– I do not know what love means.
I love you
But–

You gifted me a vase
Rose, iris, baby’s breath, chrysanthemum
In purples and pinks and whites
They wither quickly
Alongside the spider webs in my closet,
They crack and brown
Buried in the darkness of thick winter blankets,
Hidden within the folds
Of that green dress I wore
They rot.

I stay awake until
The old clock ticks in silence,
Sound bouncing off empty corners and into the abyss,
I unsheathe the vase from my closet and hold it up
To the yellow-orange ceiling light,
Blinds drawn tightly,
Damage control;
“Live, please, live. Just a little longer.”
I press my nose into it,
And baby’s breath becomes hemlock,
Iris into nightshade,
Chrysanthemums now oleander,
And the roses–
Stay roses,

I press my nose into it,
Tears replenish dried water,
Feeding the poison,
Dying, slowly, in darkness.

I love you
But– this cannot be love.
I love you
But– I have not sacrificed,
Have not pained or labored or suffered,
I love you
But– If this is love
Then what have I known?

Ours was something
Of swimming pools and summer air,
White boy indie guitar,
Art museums and coffee,
Flowers, book stores, paint drops on your cheek,
It was leather car seats and upstairs lofts,
The frantic finding of fabric
As doors creaked open.

I bury my face into purple roses,
I swear they smell of you,
“I love you, I love you, I love you,”
A million times,
“I love you, I love you, I love you,”
Until the words melt
Into a meaningless sludge,
No one to hear them,
Sound bouncing off empty corners and into the abyss,
I love you
And–
I am leaving you.

There are seven eyes of understanding
some people in life are so commanding
but the divine wisdom behind them all
is to rise up in knowledge and not fall.
--------------
Just as there are seven planes of consciousness - seven spiritual states - so also are there seven states of understanding. It is always seven. The number seven is the divine number. The seven understandings are:

Eye of Instinct: governs the animal world which includes insects, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds and mammals.

Eye of Intellect: rules most of the common human realm of existence.

Eye of Inspiration: is for those human souls whose feelings are developed like poets and artists and other creative people.

Eye of Intuition: is for those advanced human souls who have conscious visions and understanding true to the point. What you understand by intuition is always true. What you understand by intellect is sometimes true and sometimes not.

Eye of Insight: human souls on the fourth and fifth plane have insight; their understanding is direct, without thinking with the mind.

Eye of Illumination: means seeing God as he is and is experienced by those human souls who see the Light of God inside and outside of their mind. The understanding is divine.

Eye of Integration or Realization: this is the merging, becoming and understanding of oneself as God (the I am God state – Nirvikalpa Samadhi).
-----------------------

as I am trying to learn as much as I can
from the self of trees, wind, of bees and birds
of the unlanguaged child I still am, from
wise men and women through the arch of time
I am well aware that we can keep each other captive
inside the machinery of make-believe that makes lonely
bodies & sunsets bearable
I can't help feeling I am just this,
a vagabond in such a deep mystery

my body is a tropical forest in transition
thought is a beast with binocular hearing
as I am waiting for him naked
in front of a narrow window to infinity

you intensify a subtle creature inside me
with sudden nuances of sonorous blueness, aurora greenness,
naughty yellowness
with the impatience of roots piercing the earth of my soul
this creature keeps stumbling onto the same truth that
metabolizes light tenderly for me to have a measure of my depth
suddenly the strangest of strangers is I

it was a hot burning day,
now is  raining,  and the thunder is turning the sky upside down,
while the lighting, like a God, to be seen,  and wanted, came at my window,  
touched my heart,

is not easy
to find from which spot  of the sky we are falling,
from which cloud

if I close my eyes and fall like forever
deeper and deeper, just deep enough
I can feel the speed of the earth
it spins me further away from the path of harm
if you want to know me just look at the clouds
they carry the rythm of my tears
far away into the roundness of a blue heart