Ten thousand beings, reach for you [groans of delight & yearning] all our reaching, is for you our hands made to caress you our bodies made for your caress. Mother-love abides in us as we spring forth from you. Our root drinks deep of you your waters, our flow your breasts suckle & give us rest. No limit to your giving how pathetic, our need for control. [fine line between need to control & need to constrain.] You are that in us which lives long & sees far which lives sparingly in the lap of fullness which responds eagerly to the first whisper which gathers your daily harvest. Farmers know to store some of last year's grain in this year's storeroom I know to store the bread of the living & of the dead. Wind dances the grass on the tombs of seeds roots reach deep for living water shoots reach high for living light ...seeds of light fall again into the earth. Can I be free of my own ideas be tolerant as spacious sky be all-pervading sunlight be mountain fastness be a wind-bent branch, going wheresoever wind goes receiving what comes in reverent joy birthing that which is ready & holding not back. |
