Take
with your hands from an offering pool
on
to your face a reflecting light of endearment.
Use
it to undress your thoughts
and
sweetly bathe in it.
Allow
your experience to bleed in it,
the
way circulation is always bleeding inside you.
Sink
into your body, with your awareness.
Swim
deep.
Below
the cadent faint echo of breath
as
it whispers.
From
below any sense you have for movement,
feel
the hive activity of your essential being,
and
allow that to gracefully fade into a settling.
Come
to nest on the still point,
where
the charade of being in time
loses
its street value
and
its game face.
What
of desire appears?
A
desire that is slower to formalize
than
notice has patience?
A
desire of impending untracked momentum,
a
desire laughter-bound of infectious contradiction?
A
desire producing buoyant self-reflection?
A
desire with levity that is both cohesive and collusive.
Is this a desire from
deep within the stir
of
your future destiny as summons?
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