by Francesca Mariano (participant at SAND17, Italy)
Reality is blurry
As I remain the centre
Of this moving stillness.
Of chaotic order -
Meeting at the core
Of what is,
We are spinning,
As the planets do -
Aligned without question
Surrendered without fear
To what is -
And while the wind runs through my skin,
If the gods are spinning their garments in the skies,
Whirling, whirling -
They enjoy when we cease to walk and talk,
And stretch our bodies
Into the divine dance,
The limited mind,
Allowing what is
To be perfect
The fire of change
The bridge to the unseen,
Manifested beauty through the seen.
A scene of such magnificence
That I burst into tears
Of fear revealing love
Of diffidence becoming trust.
Tasting the unspoken
Being one with what is
A Sign of Our Times or How the Black Madonna Is Shaking Us Up for the Twenty-First Century
Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem.
to fashion universes out of emptiness
“Some of his poems are as if he’s consoling God for what’s happened to his creation”
Where do you see a window you can open for a subtle sacrament to slip into your day?
The seed of life is within us all, our dance here is mundane, strange and wonderful.
Many on the spiritual path rightfully long for a sudden point in time when a shift happens
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