O Universe, O Lover,
I gave myself to thee
Not for gold
Not for glory
But for love.
Our children are immortal,
I am the Mother.
The offspring of our love
Will bear the image of a humble mother
And also a proud imperious Father.
I saw him in a stream of glowing stars;
Long, long I lay in his terrible embrace.
Their sons go striding round the firmament;
My children gambol at their heels.
Many on the spiritual path rightfully long for a sudden point in time when a shift happens
God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night.
A winter solstice 2020 short stream for a Movement Medicine community
The seed of life is within us all, our dance here is mundane, strange and wonderful.
Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem.
Where do you see a window you can open for a subtle sacrament to slip into your day?
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