Beloved, Mine,

 

spiritual_gate_by_Patrick_Flies.jpg

Beloved, mine,
The days fly
off their spool
like a delicate tapestry
woven from time
that unravels
while sleeping.
Upon waking,
the approaching sun
reveals you there beside me.
I feel a quickening of my soul,
a transcendent drive
to consummate ecstatic union.
I reach out to you
and find you reaching back to me
with delicate hands
and soft touch.
Our lips press.
Our hands caress.
Our bodies entwine.
I enter with intention,
complete in your embrace,
and fall into your eyes.
With every press,
every stroke,
every shared breath,
we reach ever higher.
Our sounds,
like the Song of the Universe,
rise to the Heavens
as the heady scent of us,
like incense,
drifts beyond the atmosphere,
carried by cries of passion
that commune with the Divine.

I turn myself inward,
to see you from within,
and find you looking back at me.
Through your eyes
I see eternity.

We are One.

 


Image: “Spiritual Gate” by Patrick Flies

After a long day

Buno.Lemos

It’s okay, Love
It’s okay
Lean back into me
Let me wrap my arms around you
Rock you gently
Kiss your neck
Silence the day
With wordless passion
As we watch the Moon
Now round and full
Light the clouds that gather
and will away the worry
With love

 


Image by Bruno Lemos

A Place of Love

e.e.cummings

I sit in silent contemplation and awe of the direction my life has taken. Where I’ve been. Where I’m headed. I am amazed by the change that has manifested in my life because of my persistent dedication to my intentions but if I allow it, and I do allow it, I feel a pressure in my chest, a tightening of my throat.

It is anxiety. Stress. Worry.

It is a reminder of those things that brought me to this point; hard memories of hard times that led to hard decisions that brought me to who and where I am now.

I allow those feelings to express themselves completely. The disappointments. Failures. Shame. Guilt. They are the voice of my soul asking for my attention and tender affection. I listen.

I don’t ever want to forget those things. They keep me grounded. On my path. But I never allow them to control me. My past has no place here. Now. Except to keep me on course by reminding me who not to be.

I have allowed those hard times to make me soft. Vulnerable. I am ever grateful for that. There is strength in that softness.

With eyes closed, I breathe deep and slow, acknowledge those feelings, then treat myself with the same loving compassion I would treat anyone else who was suffering.

I lay one hand on my belly, the other on my heart, and, with honest sympathy, I repeat those same words to my Self that I would tell anyone I care about;

“I love you.
I am listening.
I am here.”

In doing so I release those feelings and love rushes in to replace them.

I keep a place in my heart
for my Beloved.
I keep her heart in my heart.
For it to be a place
where she feels the care
and compassion
and passionate love
I keep there for her
it must be a place of love.
For it to be that place
I must first love myself.
In loving myself
I love her.

This is what it means to love myself and why it is so important.

So I sit in quiet contemplation and awe of the direction my life has taken and in that quiet contemplation I find gratitude, even for the reminders of the past that led me here.

This house of Love

Solitude.by.Stellaire.Studio.jpg

Truth
Hope
Faith
Honesty
Courage
Vulnerability
Compassion
Care
Passion
All intentions of Love
Gratitude realized
They are the foundation
Upon which we build
Each supports the other
Builds upon each other
Seamless
The mortar between
Made from their union
A blending
Truthful hope
Hopeful faith
Faithful honesty
Courageous vulnerability
Vulnerable compassion
Compassionate care
Careful Passion
Passionate love
Each stone with deep roots
Based in experience and understanding
All firm
None are loosened by illusion
Or fantasy
Each floor laid
With deliberation and purpose
With careful design
The plan determined
By each preceding
It grows
Stone by stone
Board by board
With every loving action
Every caring word
Touch
Kiss
Passion
Floor upon floor
Rising endlessly
The walls form
Where floors end
Yet have no limit
Rooms without walls
Walls without ceilings
One with Gaia and the Universe
It is a house of Love

 


 

Image: “Solitude” by Christine Lantz

 

 

 

 

 

Myth and Legend

lmpoi

She speaks to me of greatness
An unremembered gospel
A living myth
In the same terms
I speak to her
As she is;

Goddess

Together we are Legend

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Image: Unknown. Came up in a search for Selene and is named “Impoi”. A search turned up nothing. Beautiful work. I’d love to give it credit. Possibly Frank Howell.

a moment in eternity

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you are in the kitchen
while I sit in silence in the other room
releasing my thoughts
and the energy that carried me through the day
soft music plays
a bluesy roughness
with hypnotic beat
that draws me near
I come up behind you
pull you close
kiss your neck
pull you close while touching you gently
with purpose
my hand raises to your heart
the focus of my attention
as I lightly caress the base of your spine
I offer the life that flows
from your heart to mine
expand on it
return it to each chakra
one by one
as I whisper love
reassure you
guide our energy with my hand
as I reach Vissudha
I replace my hand, now moved to your belly, with a kiss
then lower my hand to your pelvis
seeking pleasure and finding it there
I rest my head against yours
seeing Ajna light up
feel our crown, now joined,
freely pass our energy back and forth between us
a perpetual, growing light
as I breathe you in
feeling you fill me
and returning it
to fill you
with a peaceful calm
with life
with love
I hold you close
knowing
this is but a moment in eternity

 

Wish you were here

How I wish you were here.

Or I there with you.

Not this distance.

This painful punishment of purpose.

Unfair actions of the Universe

creating love at distance.

Impossible miles

increased by insurmountable odds

of our own creation.

Of my creation.

The price paid

for becoming me.

Damn this misfortune.

This condemnation.

The Divine has no right.

If love is her intention

then why the obstruction?

Seething with silent melancholy

I step to the mirror

and gaze at that man.

See beyond those feelings.

Beyond the frustrations.

Beyond the need for blame.

I am sure.

Confident.

I am loved.

I am servant to the Divine,

and have served her well,

this is not punishment.

Not misfortune.

Not condemnation.

Those are words

that describe how I feel.

They come from within.

Not from the Divine

whose only purpose is Love

and creation.

I will the miles to evaporate.

Command the distance to dissipate.

Speed the flow of time.

Increase the range of my love

to envelop even from here

my love so far away

and a life I have yet to live

knowing that we will succeed.

But still,

I wish you were here.