Dearly Beloved

 

Dearly Beloved

 

 

A flood of salty tears is washing away

a thousand names and faces

that flicker in the dark, like sparks

 of dying embers.

Love is giving birth to love.

The face of the sun is

melting the mirror

and blinding my eyes with

 unrelenting light

 

Re-membering becomes a way of being

that is not about resurrecting

the past,

nor is it about making

a future.

It is about surrendering to

 what cannot be known

or grasped in faith

and is unable

to tell us where we are

or where

 we are going.

 

If you do not recognize the one

that is emerging from the sea,

call out for the beloved,

where every voice

 has drowned in silence,

for there is breathing beneath

 the waves reverberating

 from that heart.

 

There is a dwelling place

 in the obscurity

of  the madness of love,

that offers shelter from the

raging storm

of the frightened ones.

 

I tremble and shake in the

quivering quake that

 crushes me.

I call out, but no one hears

the voice, including me.

 

I melt. I drown. I die,

and as I turn to look behind me,

there is nothing there.

 

Was it all a dream?

 

Would it be so terrible if I were you

and you were me?

 

What might we see from there,

that we could not see

from here?

 

What might we learn if we threw

 our books away?

 

What might we feel if we gave ourselves

  to love to refashion us in

 its enfolding arms?

 

Love is the unseen beauty of a desiring wave

 pursuing, flowing, longing

surrounding, cradling us

in a rocking rhythm

of  sweet ecstasy.

 

I feel the rolling sea and taste the wine

and feel the tether breaking free

of all I thought was me.

 

The beloved is a love that

is forever free.

 

Naomi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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