Art by Norman E. Masters
The soul is as a lady in waiting in the court of an ardent King, dressed as a visible beauty, that He may enjoy her attendance within Himself. We are occupied like this for the Love that Is, to be its own becoming. We are retained in sovereignty, to serve the passion of the universe to Be. Soul dances within her many veils, knowing her sensuous movements are a wave of absence that must be served as passion, until it is spent, consumed by Love's own attraction to be this desire.
This very longing to be the affection of God is Love's movement. It is the emotive sway of your celestial being. There is no separation from the dance, the dancer, and the One who dances you. Only be bound by this rapture, and you shall be the flight of divine imagination itself.
This celebration of attendance to absence is a coronation that love reveals to itself, within a lantern show of meaningless time. A pageant played out in shadow, that the soul may come to the light of its own eternal body. A light that retains the universe within it. There is no separation from the Source, the impulse, and the becoming.
The flame cannot see itself; yet its fire illumines. When the flame seems to fail, it springs up as fire somewhere else. This dancing in space is the soul's lovemaking, and God's attraction to be known. Life consumes its fire for the pleasure of a love that is an ocean of light, that flares to become visible.
The handmaiden of the Lord is as a womb within a seed. A soul birthed in veils, that it may uncover God's nakedness. In such a way as this, love contracts in labor to give new breath to its creations. God is the becoming of this undressing, that His love can be known as infinite incandescence.
The Beloved so loves you that He has given you this bright jewel of transience, that you may be the crowning of creation once more. Fear nothing in this flame of your being; for you are the love of His life. The living One. A hyaline of light, that it is His favor to make His own.
I have gone to fish for the moon. A silver fish in the dress of longing. The red-blooded sun drops into the cool sea. The cormorant is full of fish diving for air, and an ancient hunger. I remember the way Love looked when the world flew away. Such a lovely wingspan of nakedness. The secret of Love is you. You are become what you always were, a passion molded to the image of love for the delight of Love. Now that I know You love me I can forget about all those questions seekers ask to while away their lonely journey. The starlight comes back and the days turn perfectly. Children are content to be children. Why should I grow up in the world any more?