Your room was the temple
Your bed was the alter.
I offered it all
To the god I found there.
As pillars surrounded
And shone brilliant light
Across your face and your soft golden hair.

Blue eyes that could see me
But you looked somehow through me
And no words of love would you dare.
Is it just that you left me
When once you’d undressed me
For places that no one could share.

But the dances at midnight
Played out by firelight
Our souls they did mingle and play
And still in the daylight
The morning with  bright light,
Would make some things so  hard to say.

But there, at your alter
I found in your stare
Such beauty and purity
That I’d never dare,
To believe I could ever possess.
And me bringing offerings
So many precious things,
My lips are ashamed to confess.

The sacred was all there
Clear as the stars
As they shone on that dark mountain lake.
When we were all tucked away
The loons they did sing and play
And heaven and earth we would shake
Yeah, heaven and earth it would shake.

I’ve returned to my garden
So filled up with longing
For all that I left at your feet
My pride and my hope and the faith that I had
But the moonlight will make me complete.

So, I’ll wait alone now,
And I’ll believe somehow
It’s written as “what should have been”,
And struggling to feel whole
And raped of my own soul
I’ll choose to repent from my sin.

For I know it’s ALL in ME
This presence and purity
That’s how it ALL came to be.
This expression of holiness
Poured out on your alter, yes,
On a god who could just never see….
You’re as god, but you just couldn’t see.

Why do we love,,, at all ?
That intoxicating, swirling reality that can’t be put into words.
The one thing that some cannot live without.
Is it simply because, we cannot live without…ourselves.

I’ve heard it said that “to love is to recognize yourself in another”.
That we love those that only provide a mirror for us to better see our real selves.
Sometimes when we love someone they inspire us to be “better”, our “higher selves”.I contend that we would not even recognize that “better”, “higher self”, if we were not ALREADY that thing.

I think this is the greatest reason why we so often feel as if we have “lost ourselves” when we lose a great love.
We have really only lost the vision of ourselves  that the lover allowed us to see and… love.
Oh, to carry away from a great love the knowledge that,,, YOU are… all… of…. those…. things,
that you cherished in the beloved. That you can keep on loving them…by loving yourself.
You are the passion that they expressed.
You yourself offered the softest touch and have lain in the moonlight while night creatures moved and sang.
Your own heart has been generous and spontaneous and full of laughter.

The value of a having experienced a great love lies in recognizing this truth.
The pain of a love lost, is in believing that you have lost these things by losing your beloved.
The truth is that you never lose a true love as they always remain a part of you… because they always were.
We are the same.  We are all one.

If one can recognize their OWN beauty and that THEIR true self has been shown to them THROUGH their love,
then they stop grasping onto other lovers.
There can be rest as one realizes that they truly love… themselves.
This is the magic time when others can see their own reflection.
When the waters are still and calm.
When one is unruffled by the storms and the heavy winds,
this is when a new love will become visible…..
Here begins again the great circle of love and “self-realization” and the “falling in love” ensues.
This evolution of souls and spirits.

When we see that our lover was truly a gift to us
when we understand why we loved at all and how they touched us so deeply,
There is humility and gratefulness and such room to stand in awe of it all.
It is all spirit revealing itself.

As the one who loves continues to find and “fall in love” with others, deeper and different things are revealed.
Love also “dies” for this same reason.
Two can cleave and marry for life but unless each continues to develop and grow and provide a mirror for the other of new things that they ALSO are,
the interest and excitement of discovery, of “love”, will die.

Are some already more “in love” with themselves than others?  I would say, yes.
Perhaps these are those of us who don’t feel the drive, the need, the compulsion to “find love”.
Still others find ways to discover themselves without having to recognize it in another.
Some have undoubtedly uncovered their selves and are living in the bliss of that discovery, even unknowingly.
While many of us need to keep seeing our reflections to be reminded of our true selves,
We need to keep discovering and will never stop until we believe it… until we live it.

I think this is why we love at all.
Simply to know…. ourselves.
To know this spirit that lies within, that is the mirror, or image, of God.
We love so that we might know God.

MK
1/3/14

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Love and Madness

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BirdWings by Rumi

Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror
up to where you’re bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look, and instead,
here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
if it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting
and expanding,
The two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.

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What is this?

My imperfect offering
my soul is on the way
She told me i am dying..dying
She told me…Lose your voice and be mute
And then you will hear the ancient voices of children  rise from my children,  your children,  and your children’s children
And she told me : become blind for a while so your infant eyes can open for the first time… again and again
And when you are done being blind become deaf
So you will hear the roaring of tigers  alive in your belly and be ready to unleash their power again and again.
You must become numb for awhile too
And she told me to toss my child away and leave him  on a garbage heap so she could pull him out and bath him in her tears and hold him for the first time again and again. And she said… Taste the bitterness of jealousy and drink the acrid juices of hatred Let them burn through you again and again until there is nothing left but a pile of ashes.  She told me: you must become small and almost  invisible. Turn away from your vanity.. let the judgments  pass through you…
Put the badges of  merit and honor away for a while..  put aside what you cling to and own no thing.. She told me:  sit by the river once again
Touch the willow leaf and put your feet into the icy waters then look for me…You will find me on the mountain pass enshrined with rough stones and adorned with all of your imperfect offerings: colorful ribbons…cheesy plastic crosses and dime store saints.. Lay your gifts down here at my feet.  Yes YOU TOO! The small ones, the big ones, the broken ones.  It’s all the same to me little one.
Lay yourself down by the river again and again. And I will turn it all into gold….

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When did the ” us ” change to ” you and me ”

Was it when I saw the daisies flower – and you saw dandelions

Was it when I danced with the fireflies in the night skies – and you looked for citronella

Was it when you took a left turn – and I walked straight ahead

Or was it when you felt hatred and despair – and I found peace and forgiveness

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For much of the winter the desert exhibits subtle shades of pale green and tan with a few vermilion pinks thrown in for a little variety when the sun sets on the mountains to our east.  Some may find this boring.  In fact my first winter in Arizona I found myself yearning for some more dramatic colors.  Where were all those exciting shades of green that you find in the northeast?  Shades like sap green, grass green, juniper green or cedar green.  But by early to mid-March  there is a transformation and suddenly all those “boring” colors change their tune.  No longer confined to their drab winter coats, the cacti burst forth in vibrant shades of yellow, pink, orange, and red.  Acacia trees display a riot of yellow blossoms while the Mesquites are covered in tender, tiny, dancing, green leaves. The Aleppo pine outside our patio is .swathed in delicious brown blossoms that will soon turn into pine cones.  Pink Penstamin and bright yellow Poppies carpet the grounds near our villa.  Of course this renewal is happening all over the northern hemisphere – it’s just a different renewal depending on where you are at the time of this annual “new beginning”.

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Who will I tell of the first robin in the Spring?

Who will I tell when the leaves change colours in the Fall?

Who will I tell when I make my first angel in the snow?

His sweet, sweet smile – just a memory

Who will I tell?

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Sleep eluded me so I found myself on the front porch step @ 3:45AM this morning.

The moon was wrapped in a halo and bathed the street in an almost iridescent light.

The aroma of morning dew on the grass, the fragrance of pine bark, loamy earth and lavender wands was intoxicating. Willow Creek Lane was almost magical.

And then, out of the silence of the night, I heard the click, click, click of hooves on the pavement. And an eight point buck emerged from the mist – silhouetted against the moonlight, proud and regal, the breath from his nostrils creating ribbons of movement in the still air.

And just as suddenly as he emerged – he disappeared, making me wonder if he ever existed al all. What is it about Florida that has captured my heart? Could it be the soft, gray, wispy Spanish moss that seems to cling to every tree and float like a ghost in the slightest breeze?

Or maybe it’s the lone owl who greets me as I head out for a walk in the semi-dark, early morning hours.

Perhaps it’s the first scent of sea salt air as we’re driving across the Courtney-Campbell Causeway, our heads hanging out the car windows and our ears flapping in the wind!

Or the anticipation of finding that one perfect shell in the warm sand on the beach.

OR, just maybe, it’s the absence of stress!

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“A Place to Share” – created October 2, 2013