Beautiful Knife

Upon me rolls the wave

Of being,

Brought by the voice of the bird

Invisible in the thicket.

With the pick of her beak

And blade of her song

She cuts

The monoculture of mind

Bent on blandness

And domination,

And frees me

From the world of my cage

To world of my own.

The Heart Sun

The sun gives

Without question,

Pulsing with energy

In an ever outward movement,

Gifting without requirement,

Being because it is.

And we, the myriad life

In all our forms

Receive this gift,

And dance

In light transformed,

Wholly containing it.

The inner sun,

The sun of our heart

Is not different

Or a photon less

Than its heavenly reflection

Benevolent beyond our sky.

Divine Mother

The mother gives

The gift, the life, the energy.

She is

In the shape of

The mother beyond the world,

Who breathes life

Into existence.

The mother is deity in earthly form,

No less than God

But no more than the mothers

In time, who populate the ages,

And bring new life

Time and time again.

They are her

As she is them.

In their hearts

They know her

Although not all resonate

With her full magnitude.

When she gives

The world is more

For she is the blood in the veins

And breath coming freely,

Filling the lungs,

And elevating the body

And the mind

With the gift of Source

Given infinitely

As a stream of love without end.

Only In Love

When we are not love

We are but the echo of the past

Thrown into the future,

For as we were made

So shall we make the world.

Only in love

Are we exposed,

Waking from the dream

Of happening without volition,

Happening without choice or will.

Only in love

Can we see the bones

Of being,

And choose,

Choose our way through.