When you get haymakered by the Sun it will come on a day that doesn't matter. Everything negative you've ever thought about will instantly change. Time will not exist. Everything you've known about yourself will expand.

If you hear a whisper that tells you
"You know you may require more healing."

I suggest you allow it.  Follow it.
Lie back. Relax. Think of somewhere safe. Close your eyes. When the Sun Fist comes it will strike with invincible power. Oceanic waves of divine love will take you out beyond time and space. Rainbow flashes will pierce the yurt.

A magical sway will lull you as if you are 5 years old on a swing set being swung by your young healthy Dad.

Telepathic ripples of overwhelming feeling will float you toward True Home.

Gentle as butterfly wings traveling through a vortex, unscathed. You will lift off. Angels will dash through your inhuman heart. They will plow every pain away as if nothing ever occurred. Dark Rage will be silenced, dropped, and forgotten.  

When tall indigo Guardians come they will fill you with a fierce surge of warrior light.

A waterfall of Moon Beams will soak you. When you rise it will be the best drunk you've ever felt. The best high that's possible will soar you to a cloud we all have known before.

When you get there tell it Hi for me and thank you.

You will sway, heavy legs contemplating ground. Lie back down. Days and nights will pass like nothing. Invigorating gusts will clean everything away. Some magic wand voice will speak profound, perfect poetry that you only wish you could remember. It leaves you trashed on rocks that speak sea.

A Sun will scream through your shore and connect you to sub atomic particles and the entire Universe will rise up in One Song, snaking delicious through high walls of every illusion teaching separation.

Glittering scree will find you help less as they land inside you. Colorful marbles, each one a universe unto itself will flash and slash your spirit with New vitality.

Heaven will be a waterfall, you will be its pool. Perfect shiny spheres will reflect only wonder, appreciation, gratitude, and endless love. A Love so vast it ties up logic and kicks it out. A Love so fierce nobody who feels this can ever doubt again.

It will come like a invisible thief
and plant you with rosy elegance in a garden that deflates time.

Your body will light up like a river of fire, a light in your center will begin to pulsate something so new it escapes all languages.  Steadily warmer. Hot. Hotter. Searing.

Scorching flames will increase and a sword of invincible light will activate your chakras.

You will laugh at Death, truly knowing that it's impossible to die.

You will feel Knighted by Ancient Knights. They will sing you praise.

After one week, you will rise completely different. You try to explain it to anybody and they label you On Drugs. Silence will befall you. New wonder glistens on everything you've already stared at a thousand times but not like this. Every word that once was a prisoner in a World of Broken is released forever.

I watch them playing out there in tall green mountains. They flirt and tease my pen but I cannot even lift it. I care not to define it. It stays with me. We are thoroughly engaged with a thousand secrets that burn words away with dreams.

These words can't even begin to touch it.

I will have to start again.

Touch the thirst
sandy throat
  nomad drifter

remembering rain
  when all the August grains
    cry out
  
inside a fiery tornado
  lit up in the center

with a bolt
  scorching,
    hotter than Sun.

Funnel of light
  leveling the expression
    you seek.

Must I start over
  carrying silent debree
    after you stormed through me

leaving this bright residue
   still twisting inside
     my hidden pathway.

Touch my thirst
  sizzle the answers
    into August grains,

flash flood this Mojave
with the echo
    of your flood.

Tow the ache
  simmering magnetic
    slivers of sunset awe
  
         streaking unnamed things
           holding it inside
              unleashing rivers of
       clean starlight

giving itself
      to the earth.

    Loneliness smells like curling
        smoke drifting on a crisp night
           when a thousand howls
               plead to the Harvest Moon

                    for something
                       buried inside
                          sprouting to get out.

Call it the invisible field of yourself
  where nobody can see what
     grows there, except the One
        who flies through it,    

        
   monitoring it all
       with unconditional love          listening to the ache
  of diversity yearn for itself

on another level
where two becomes One.

The power of the sea is air born,
its force snapping in my face.

Invisible waves whipping through 4 layers of clothes.

Thrashing Pines.
Shearing limbs.
Natural pruning.

Solitary phantom bashing cliffsides,
spinning leaves, contagious dervish dances overtaking the mountain.

A thousand Rumi letters taken flight
burning atoms, spilling longing.


Moaning captains, ship less,
praying for strength,
fighting night swells,

the power of the sea is swirling sky
kidnapping forest litter
no ransom
an icy thief
cracking lips
piercing skin

howling like the ache
of 80 million prisoners
who wish to be as free
as it sounds.

The endless flying whooshing
happening beyond walls,
sloping through the curiosity of
an entire world,

penetrating dreams like a cosmic ghost.

Going blank is to suffer an army of sharpened nails clawing in skin without sound.

Small grooves,
yet, make no mistake-

A collection of oceans pass in this narrow place.

Silent uproar.
Calm trickles.
Minerals from hidden rocks.

Secrets leaked beneath the buried
  wound where angels and demons-
        Rage their wars.

She sits silent
as night collaborates
cursive wind to spoken pines.


Pearl moon silent
she is the main attraction
radiant dream, dark angel lust

thirsting for every eye
  to stare
and burn
for the fortune she hides

as her naked pearl shine
  illuminates forest wonder.

She will glaze the ice
  scurry her light
    in ways
       that trap your tongue

around the rutilant jewelry
you wish you could wear
  leaving night to worship
    her perfect crisp blaze

as your enamored pen
falls into a coma
     too deep
        to speak out.

Her silence is another world
    only imagination understands.

They are crawling in violet sands of silence. Hours jet by like nothing. They are stinging you all over. Powerful burning, moon spackled in every grain. An inner Sun dawns, hits  water, nobody knows. Or do they?

I once fed my hostility into the jaws of intensity in hopes to be rid of it.

Now. It is done. Paper swallowed
pain. Painted bars the mind brushes to trick you into prison. I learned to let go.

Mother tells you it's illegal to cry. Keep it locked up for decades, a child who discovers Houdini's secret window.

He crawls out. Night and day embrace. Rainfall of stars.

Peace at last.

Now they are stinging in violet sands of silence.

Long letters swirling beyond your reach but dazzling the water's edge close enough to jolt the aching valve to a pipeline your spirit raced through.

They come.

Scorpions of powerful, needle fire stings.

The pressure to release them builds like a secret ocean as you sprawl out on violet sand wondering how to express the Eternal diamonds following you in the waters of your
inner world.

Long letters swirling from beyond.
Only in deep calm can I catch them.

Most times I am frantic clawing at night's window, diamonds falling out from my eyes replacing the words I need to trace them.

They are not mine.
They are everybody's natural heritage.

Majestic stars of eternal love
  streaking into our secret ocean.

We just have to open the door
to the private shore and give it surrendering permission to love us.