becoming the beloved

becoming the beloved

i cannot speak of crumbs that fall from an idea
from an idle thought
from the shredded moments of numbness
defined by the ticking of a clock
or the scratching numbers
of a calendar page…
when the beloved’s heart is beating
so close to my own
guiding me into arms
that encircle my existence
like wildflowers in an open meadow

i cannot hear what you are saying
when the feathering touch of love’s being
lingers on my skin….
when the musky scent of the beloved’s presence
fills my breathing
in darkness that has spread out
in the mysterious beauty of flowing hair
tangled with stars and tenderness
upon the pillow of my soul

i cannot focus on words
when the intimate nearness of love
is touching me
like the soft transparency of clouds
glowing with light flowing
in a gaze
streaming like a rushing river
from my beloved’s eyes

there is no conversation….
only deep and murmuring communion
when i am surrounded
by the piercing intensity
of the beloved
falling around me as tears of feeling
waiting to be felt
longing to be immersed in otherness
becoming oneness
yet moving away only to return again
and again and again
mingling….melting….dissolving
whoever i was
the way solar flares move closer
in the spring
warming all traces
of the wintering perception of the past
drawing me to a hearth
that flickers with lights from a flame
only a lover can see

i am seeing with eyes
i can no longer call my own
my heart is empowered by the rhythm
of a larger heart
i feel a pounding pulsation causing
every heart to stir and awaken
never knowing why
or what made them rise in the night
and wander to the window
to wonder who is passing by

the madness of love is a secret only lover’s know
it is pointless to preach it or teach it
or command it or name it
for it only answers the heart
that begins to hunger
for life that is pure and free
that no bread can satisfy
no drink can quench the thirst
no face appears over the horizon
no truth writes itself in the explosion of dawn
no name suddenly appears on the lips
except the whispering holiness of the beloved
O beautiful beloved…
beloved one

may each moment become a spiral
of evolving and revolving
and expanding presence
of the spirit of the one your heart
knows as belovedness

no one else will recognize
the delightful surprize
of those eyes
you will only hear it in the cries
of ecstasy
bursting from the depth
of your heart

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