Love Letter 234 A Difficult Detail

When the melody of my heart runs low

and I cower at the door of loneliness

I remember

how your love can be light, dark, strong, subtle, absent, present, like a list of stones tumbled by the swamp

I find my fingers scratching

at your post

wanting to arouse your love

wanting to feel your tender attention

filling my empty slip

(weighing it down, until I exist again)

I am embarrassed to admit it.

of course

these things become innocence's blood thirst

cravings for the Impeccable

for vision into the unseen

I am wanting you

though my bed is in shambles

my heart has never had a wholesome breakfast

and I am on the floor, writing love letters to you

yes, maybe you should move on

except

we will never be strangers

even our isolation from each other's berth

will not make us so

we are touched by one another

and though severed, we remain, from the same animal

oh lover

won't you open the door

all ecstasy is dead in the distance between us

whatever I need

is purely

your presence

your mouth in my lap

your listening

I need your acknowledgement

...don't run in fear, boarding up what little window is left (between us)

my love

we have both been on this doorstep

and turned away the other

many times before

and also

opened

that tender door

we have made the mess together

your bed -- mine once

and my bed -- yours

we have tumbled these stones together

and put them in and out of order

beloved

tonight, the agony of awakening alone

is like a wrench loosening our contact

a wrench, my love

which has no business in my heart

have you ever looked upon the madness, knowing it is mad, and yet still drifting in it, treading it, floating in and out of knowing the One?

if my desperation turns you off, beloved

then you must see for yourself, that I am made of nothing more than you

Your shutting down, is my coffin

Your opening, a place in the universe where Love takes root

it is not madness

which separates us

but fear that there is not enough Love

to carry us madly

back

into each other's arms

I blissfully love you

there is nothing between us

but this sting of distinction

you are you

or I am me

whatever the confusion

I have a wrench

to remove that door

forever

if you so choose

Your Beloved

Love Letter 233 Proof of You

I Am not confused. I have been

betrothed to you since I was an infant;

watery stars in a mother's womb sent word of your existence/whereabouts.

I Am only with You.

Here for you.

willing to be touched by your accord.

Your genius has spread through my heart and

I Am addicted to opening...

smoking the precious pleasure of your Absolute,

I inhale every bit of knowing, every loud and clear

"GONG" that I Am Loved.

I Live by it, even in my failure,

I return again and again to the "Gong"

I harbor its note when the sea shifts in my transition.

I pocket its sound --- so that when I am deaf, I can still feel its pulse.

I share it with others

when I can see no reason not to

For you, too, are theirs

Your Beloved

Love Letter 232 Firm Grip

When we dance,

my hair becomes the serpent

curving into Arabic

my feet are henna slippers sliding on the Zikr's

geometric harp,

...then Aramaic pastures

I find my fingers following the imprint,

cave walls, then floors, where prayers are given

permission

to live and breathe the air

and then I fall

down into Alice

and become the blissful spinning... where words are not enough

I hold you in the voiceless breath of All Speaking Allah

I carry your ancient dreaming caravan in my footsteps

I borrow all the images of lineage and then

I Go Blank

with God's Love

I cannot see your eyes

'cept for a burning bush

I cannot see your new wounds

for you are a full circle

and so old,

you must be the friend of God

turning, turning

truths

spin into cedar

sprouting vast apartments where all Beings Live

and You Are the Door

I Love You

I Love the way we Dance

Passion is Compassion's partner...Compassion's Lover!

Your Beloved