At times only in a trickle, then in torrent
Words seem to flow, wave upon wave
Crashing upon shore of consciousness….
Blown as falling leaves by wind,
Guiding thoughts as though the words
Arrive through open windows,
Blow against unhinged doors or
Upon a pathway in quiet woods.
Where do words come from anyway?
Are they sentient beings rising from an unconscious Self speaking,
Streaming from the woof and warp of universe?
As it is these words are stars
Exploding into vast sky of mind and heart—
At times unravel the fabric of separate self or
Shred old shroud from years of treading
Rigid paths or winding labyrinth,
Blocking or releasing languorous electric energy.
Though I slowly walk, limp or run,
Life seems an endless daily wrestling for the blessing.
Sometimes I search for words to grasp,
Give form to formless Holy Desire or Holy Doubt.
Often it is the words themselves that form the house,
Assist across the threshold,
Touch the place where Thou
Comes young and bright, luminous,
Soft and tender Voice merged with Breath—
Surrounds and supports me with shy Love,
Both subtle and vibrant, holds both tight and tenderly,
Burns alive from inside out.
Even now I hear the sound of falling rain,
Silent ecstatic shuddering of leaves,
Each drop a word, each leaf a phrase
Stirring me from silent restless sleep….
Prepares me to embrace the Mystery that I am aware.