rogue awakening 11/22/17

I want the experience of you,

when it is more than I can embrace,

when what I come to understand, falls short,

petals of spring blooming in overflow,

that I don’t have the composure

or the grace to gather you in, as if happening.

I feel an ineptness of myself

yet yearning to be completing you,

when you are more mountain

than I can convert my vista into vision.

I am overwhelmed with you as flash flood,

for what I absorb is not nearly enough in passing,

running over and through me at every level.

you are a rogue chalice pouring of yourself.

I am only able to sip for that palate of my soul.

I am smoldering for the lack of complete burn.

I am backwaters to the wave towering before me.

I want to be drenched in the miracle emerging

from your presence, passing through me.

some moments in life are made

of that presence of sovereign gravity impaling.

some moments, as when all the senses unite,

become sacred forever,

they imprint with clarity,

as attributes of a deeper self, realized.

I want to paradoxically hurt with that joy’s arrival

for what you awaken in me that is of my own.

I have no gratitude other than to live it all alive

and meet you as full self-disclosure radiantly conveyed.

how you are original unlocks me.

how you are provoked into being

ignites me to deeper truths from within,

simmering from before, is only placative.

I want the fire of my secrets stirred,

the haunt of unresolved self in full voice,

letting it out to be letting it totally through.

I want completeness rather than composure.

give me a full spectrum of your emotional display.

the hell with understand as steadfast.

I want the emotional river you offer

to be one that also in mine coming through me.

it is not an honesty for or by understanding

but more so, one of energetic truth pouring out.

you rained on me, into my dormant fertileness.

my life should be that creative consciousness

now in passage.  

I can’t drink you in

without drowning in my shallowness,

wanting my smallness of death

to awaken into this light,

fluid without captions or accounts.

no story to be told but this river to flow.

I can’t know the future

for now is its richness in passage outpouring.

my gratefulness is the living into this,

windswept without regret, fallbacks or returns.

magic has come,

receivership is a deeper self of embrace,

to move without a sense of boundary,

to be emotional passages’ vitality

that passes through others as awakening them.

for where we are all one,

coming into this conscious fluidity,

yet nameless, faceless spirit,

is the one etheric blood of life,

that we all are spiritually living . . .