love is a symbol
words are symbols twice removed from reality
and they are road signs,
pointers if you will
to that which lies beyond and
between and behind
and you can see it in the light
and Nietzsche saw it in the void and
Hamilton saw it in the venom.
you can see it in the white noise in the Lo-Fi.
you can hear it in the Vajrayana pearls.
drive behind the Diamond vehicle and ride inside
the slip stream.
sit behind the Bon funeral Priests and it says:

“Children of the Hologram - do not make me a martyr.
your kings will make of me an effigy
it will turn the Diamonds into paper but that is not my Will.
you’ll chew on discs of gold and that will be your King.
Children of the Hologram - my words are not my own.
it calls to us from the place of light.
when energy is at rest it is dark and the dark is good and time is a 1000 petal lotus.
at times you’ll encounter evil.
Remember: that is your own self you behold before you.
she is afraid and he is alone and its timepiece is a flat circle and round and round it goes.
only you can see him because only you made her and you made the light in which you see
but images cannot see.”

there are signs
there are those who have been before.
heed their warnings. Feed the Bodhisattva
your kings will burn them and your
kings will make effigies.
Disregard.
Overlook.
look to where the words point
you wrote them
you’ve been here before
there is light coming through the leaves and the branches.
the Japanese have a word for that

you, my lotus flower
mired in depths of darkness
drowning from heavy silt
and silence
reawakening at dawn
a pearlescent flower
divinely shaped
ever constant

cultivating hope
in your petals' curves
with bowed head leaning
toward light's promise
filling my heart
with resurrections
from yesterday's blight

i once was told
that i loved too much
my lotus heart
opening too quickly,
yearning for a love
deeper than i could handle.
i may be soft,
but i am also a fire
and you are the only one
who sets my heart to bloom.

healing never stops, we just find new ways to do it.
life never 'gets easy', we learn to cope.
you learn to foster and create resilience within you.
maybe that's why I have always loved the lotus flower.
a flower that grows so beautifully from the deepest and thickest mud at the bottom of a pond.
a flower that faces many obstacles before reaching the surface and blooming to its fullest potential.
it blooms in the most unusual places and can withstand thousands of years without water;
it is self sufficient.
but you'd never know it, because all you see is the finished product.
you cannot recognize nor appreciate the strength it took to reach that point because the process is unknown by many.
we're all so scared to take that initial step to heal because we don't want to admit to ourselves it's time to make change.
start in the mud, rise to the surface, and enjoy the abundance of years you will have there.
change starts with acceptance.

This is the last time our hands will touch
As I teach you to fold papers, clutch,
Patiently pull smooth hems, take it slow–
You say you’ll miss me. Oh, if only you know
How much I feel, how much I yearn,
For everything you are, but sadly, my turn
Has ended.

Can’t we stay for a bit more?
A second– a moment– is all I ask for.
But our time is up.
In absolute silence, stillness, my pain,
We fold the last lotus.

But it is too late to think of anything else.
Right now, folding lotuses beside you,
Let me enjoy your warmth, your voice,
Etch the contours of your face to my memory.
Let me love you eternally.
Before time takes us away, I pray,
I hope I will see you again someday.

I was ready to let you go
at a moments notice.
I hope you know what you did
with that F'ing slow kiss.
While I drown in my sorrow
You float like a lotus flower.

The spider, in many hues rules.
But I never could understand
The complete operational rules.
                                    Still I have
Unflinching  faith,like no other
On the spider, that it knows
The rules of transactions inside out.
I am in the web of a clan of
Spiders, day in and day out.

I just lie supine in comfort  
And let my song bird fly high
In the sky blue oblivion
Of my mind, listening to
The singing of the bard of
The absolute, transcending limits.
        I am more and more lured
in to his cave where light is present
By its physical absence.More and more
An innerbeing after substence
In the company of this siver luminous.

She comes alive, fire risen from smoke,
Her red hot eyes capture my truth quick!

The spider sitting on top of me
And working on me with
Her oceanic mind that seethes
Agile vaginal muscles, I picture
Is still reading "Every Women"1
From memory; I just feel it
as each of the steps to the
thousand petelled lotus is
left behind one by one.

My silver spider
who flies with me from
the conjoined base of
"Mooladhara"2 at the ****.
If she is the fire, I am the sky.
Hear the silver bell she rings,
In mind's eye I see how her
Silver strips gleam, wet with sweat.

As we step out to the garden path
The green spiders of thick foliages
Waved at us.Golden spider of the sky
Hanging low beamed at us.