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Howling at the Moon

Day Two: A Room with a View

Today’s Prompt: If you could zoom through space in the speed of light, what place would you go to right now?

 

There is only one place that can hold my attention
In fact it has called to me from before the foundations
Beckoning senses, whispering to my flesh to seek, to move, to explore
Quiet longings, muted dissatisfaction, boredom, or
Ravenous hunger, desire calling me to go out not knowing
To once again leave that which is Not in search of what Is
I have sorted through much of what is Not
I have traveled to exotic lands and lived among it’s people
I grew, I learned, but what I sought was not there
I searched the ancient writings and consulted the white-haired teachers
I grew, I learned, but what I sought was not there
I played the World’s game, trading myself for the trappings, the spoils of it
I grew, I learned, but what I sought was not there

I became a “Good” man, but the emptiness remained, there in my so-called good
I became a “Bad” man but even there was no sustenance, it too was an illusion
All the things I have seen, all the things I have done
No matter the promise, no matter the sacrifice
Each at the End answered with a resounding No
This is not It
This is not the Thing
This is not the Place you seek
And the space remained empty, longing, aching for consummation

There is a space which cannot be measured or mapped
Its breadth and length are beyond reckoning
The senses lose their bearing on the horizon of Here and There
They are undone, remade, once the Masters, now the Slave
Eyes may notice a form that quickens the blood without reason
The ears may hear a sound, a voice that stirs, that lifts ever hopeful Soul
The tongue may savor a kiss, exquisite and unique, a taste reminiscent of Home Coming
A fragrance may enchant, loosening the bonds, connections which bind soul to body
Waves of energy course through flesh as it crosses the threshold of There
Tender, sweet, intimate expanse, it now Exists, boundaries have no meaning
I is left behind as something new bursts into Being
Lifted up, energy, light, fierce passion, quiet rest, as two become One
At once a place of losing and finding, forgetting and remembering All
This is my Home
She is my Beloved

Daddyhood (Audio)

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I like being a Daddy. This is my baby. She is 18 now and soon to leave the house. A couple years ago we would get up early on Saturday mornings and hit the thrift stores. I would her and talk and learn about who the soul was that called me Daddy. She is in transition now. Her soul preparing her to leave our house and begin making her way in the wider world. And because she is a sensitive and aware she is feeling the changes. She is active with school and art and show choir and friends and and and . . . yet from time to time when it is quiet she will seek me out to talk or sit or laugh or cry. You know, we have not been to the thrift store in a while. I’m thinking we need to do that again soon.

I am Daddy to three souls.

This is my baby.

We go to the thrift store

I watch her sort through thousands of options

Choosing pieces that somehow effect and affect her

She puts them together in ways that are her own

She explains to me the difference between “granny” and “granny chic”

She tries to help me comprehend the subtle categories she has developed

I watch her choose and express herself

And in her choosing and expression I know her

I admire her sweet courageous soul

I love that she does not want to be different for difference sake

She would say that is as boring as being just like everybody else

She is wanting to be her

She is a glorious and brilliant thing

She is in search of her particular groove

I also like that shirts are $3 and blue jeans are $5

The Song of Souls – The Romance (Excerpt from “The Pool”) – Audio

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Inside the Real the Romance is experienced.
The Lover, possesses such strength that his thought is only for his Beloved.
His confidence frees him to focus on her.
Her beauty drives him.
She is his alone and his only desire is to serve her, completely satisfying her every want.
She, confident in the heart of her lover is transparent to him.
No detail escapes his notice.
She has captured his attention.
She is desired.
He is consumed by her.
His complete devotion to her leaves him exposed and vulnerable.
She, confident in her lover is fixed on him.
She is free from the need to be on guard.
She opens herself completely and takes him inside herself to nurture and protect.
She knows that his strength depends on her response.

See him in the finest linen.
His hair and body is anointed with scented oils.
See her in a silken yellow gown.
Black pearls adorn her graceful neck.
An obsidian belt hugs her waist like a lover.
His gaze studies her to the last intimate detail.
She watches him and knows his longing.
His desire quickens her.
She wants to feel his touch.
She wants to guide him to secret unseen places.
He is intoxicated by her scent, her taste, the way she fits him.
She is fine and delicate in every detail.
He is strength and kindness and mirrors her beauty to herself.
She knows herself as herself and the glory of her shakes the foundations of the universe.

From this place she responds to him.
He now is everything.
She is response to his growing need.
And the growing ardor does not embarrass.
Rather it ennobles with grace in every movement and mannerism.
He tells her of the loveliness of her curve.
She exposes another and guides him to it.
His energy arouses a response of anxious longing in her.
She must be near him, to smell his hair, to touch his face, to experience his strength, to hold him closely as to pull him into her being.
She is now the only one.
She is exalted above all others.
She saw herself in his eyes and was lifted up.
She felt a goddess.
He a god.
The dance transforms them.
They are lifted out of the material, the baser elements.
Their true selves are glimpsed.
They are exquisite creatures of energy and light.
Their dance is sublime, eternal, the summit of intimacy.
Hunger satiated – now restful joy.

Deanne’s World | Matters Of The Heart

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Deanne’s World | Matters Of The Heart.

https://deanneworld.wordpress.com/2015/03/01/my-love/

This is a challenge to write a ten line poem with four words in each line and including the word love in each line.  Maybe I not exceptionally smart.  It was not easy.  Here is mine.

 I Love the moonlight

I Love the morn

I Love your fragrance

I Love memories born

I Love the sunshine

I Love the dew

I Love your Soul

I so Love You

My Love, My Own

Our Love stands alone

The Bride’s Song (From the Pool) – Audio

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My Love is coming to me.

My Love’s thoughts are only of me.

My Love is coming to me.

Love assured, doubts evaporate next to the fire that is my Love.

Tender and intimate words of comfort still my restless heart.

The plans are fixed but I must wait.

My Love is coming to me.

Sweet longing deepens my desire.

And I am content, for I can see no other.

Whose shape, whose fragrance, whose taste fits the longing of my Soul?

None but my Love.

So I wait and the waiting is ardor perfected in faith.

I trust in the heart of my Beloved.

Now, passing fancies are smoke on the breeze.

Distractions vanish, clinging diminishes to an hushed expectancy.

The power of the imposter vanishes like fog in the bright morning sun,

When I imagine the joining with my Love.

I can wait.

I will wait.

For now I know the answer to my Soul’s Longing.

My Love is coming to me.