Though a gopi can never really leave the forest of her heart she may lose herself in dream every now and then to silent longing for reunion. When question and doubt take form in self-constraint and oppression of expression she cries her noose loose. Howling love, she sings herself awake and kadamba flowers bloom.
A peaceful melancholy cloaks my breast where I once held you near.
Your absence is illusion, but I lean into the longing
for it is the aftertaste that comes from drinking of your nectar.
I seek again your sweetness so I return into my heart,
and there, in the dark, I find you awaiting my return.
The experience of love in my belly is almost more than I can stomach. I turn away. I scramble. I climb to higher light. I choke on smoke. Inhale the illusion. And backdraft lulls me in. Back into the belly of the fire.
I sink. I surrender. I wail. I scream. In grief. In joy. I remember the One real embrace. All else are embers. Dying. Turning grey. Becoming ash. Lost in forgetting. Somehow asleep. But still, lulled home to the belly on the breeze and the backdraft of her fire.
My body, once an empty urn, is now a lively vessel. In Union and heat, wild and alive, I surrender to divine desire. I surrender to her fire.
Written in the light of the red blood moon April 2014
A rush of distant love penetrates my heart, purifies my mind.
I am One and I am mine. Truth no longer hard to find.
Shakti rises, melts through my crown.
Suddenly there is no ground. No up. No down. Just One in space.
No more sacred chase.
I yield to the whole, wild and free. I yield wild and fully me.
My ego divides like parting water in Union with the cosmic father.
All embracing, all encasing, light rains down my spine.
I ascend, come home again, grateful and alive.
Rebirthed and redelivered, my subtle body shakes and shivers.