Dancing in Her Mystery

Om
She calls me
Into the vast
Silence
of Her Mystery.
Open any door She says
And there I am.

Om
Dancing in this luminous darkness
The trance of habit is broken open, and
All containers of knowing and not knowing
dissolve.

Om
Mother of all Creation
There is only
This.

(image by SkyLove Solei)

The Placeless Place

This is the space

Between the in breath 

And the out breath,

Deep in the Heart of

The Beloved.


This is the place of un-knowing,


Of seeming isolation


And doubt.


This is the Mystery

Whose author is Love.

This is the pregnant

Liminal space
Where stars are born.

The Great Migration

The great migration is happening
In earnest now,
As if some grand invisible invitation
Has been issued.

And they are returning home
By the thousands;
These utterly unique aspects of Being-ness.

From the east and west,
The north and south,
From cliff and cave
And all the hidden places.

There is no force equal to this Call
As Love reclaims Itself
In all of it's many disguises,
Leaving nothing to the imagination.

Everything Singing

Have you been outside tonight?
There is a bright sliver of moon
Rising over the hills in the west, and
A chorus of coyotes chanting Alleluia in the next field.
Tonight the blue spruce stands tall, 
Steeped in silent majesty.
And tonight, like every other night,
Meteors and whole galaxies streak by,
Everything singing
Your holy name.

The Music of the Spheres

Listen for the soundless sound.

The roaring whisper. 
The music of the spheres.
It is right here in the midst of This.
Just behind the image,
Underneath the story.
Slow down for just a moment and listen.
Can you hear it...
The song that Love is singing?




(photo by Will and Matt Burrard-Lucas)