The Glory

Melting – soft like water.
Eyes gently closed – infused with the sacred hum.
The sound of rain – drip, drop, drip, drop, drip, drop.

The overwhelming sway,
Once again.

Breathing deeply,
softly into my belly up towards my chest.
Expanding, contracting.
With her every breath.
silence of the night is inviting me to write.

‘I’ willingly responds.
Half asleep in my twilight zone,
my ink-soaked eager nib begins to flow.

As I lie down, still,
I get a glimpse of what being fluid is all about.
Our minds, our belief, such powerful force of nature.
So strong it makes us appear all solid and firm.

Mind blowing.

The whole thing – bodies, trees,
the world around us.
Solid to be fluid.
Fluid to be solid.
Making living worth a while.  

Hanging on to something,
while we’re breathing.
Semipermeable containers of some sort.
Not quite as solid as a log,
Neither fluid as the wind.
Meandering through life,
like a river towards the ocean,
always embraced by the sky,
holding on to the consecrated ground.

We imbibe it all.
Earth, water, air, fire.
They all came together,
summoned to give life to our glorious forms.
With utmost mathematical precision
you and I were born.

Life came together,
as life always comes together.

Every morning,
we open our eyes to greet the rising sun.
As within so without the dance of Shiva must go on.

Dance, my friend, the very best you can.
May your life be merry!
For you are the summoning of life,
reflected through every cell of your body.

One with the rising sun.
You are the Graceful Glory.

Om

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