She was strange.
She was terrifying.
She was beyond beauty.
Her strut so striking
her hips beat to the sound
of her own soul.
With orchids blooming
betwixt her legs and
opals glistening in her eyes,
Men only watch her from the side
hidden curiosity oozing from their lips.
She leaves footprints on their
minds like the face of
the moon.
Delicate and deep
But everlasting.

Stomach pains directly connected to the interwoven circuits that are
Wondering, hoping.

Stopping at blind corners
Questioning the soul...

A potion of acid and cactus forms
Transformative contributions.

Catching up because you woke up to late.

Now it's to late; so late that your building a statue to remember the good you see in others.

The universe is penetrating everything at the same time it's being penetrated while we all wonder what is happening?

What does this all mean?

Why are we here?

Everything is ***** and a ******, everyone is ******* everyone and everything and everyone and everything is being ****** at the same time...

Nobody gets it while the soul is in the body.

By the time the true soul leaves the said body you fools will build a statue of this body that no longer has a soul.

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.

She never knew she had wings.
He never knew he could fly.

Like newly hatched butterflies,
they learned to roam the skies.


~ z.s