February 2, 2012 | 1:13 pm
Posted by Emily Stern
I peek down the path you came from, and smile at glorious choices.
And I take a handful of light for my own feet, so I may rise through this
forest and see how there was never meant to be an end to all of this Love.
There is always a field surrounding us, leading to another forest , leading
to another more fragrant field. A shore of sand leading to a wider sea. the
sacred places we have seen. The sacred visions in our dreams. I saw a tree.
That we called our home.
Where we speak quietly and we laugh wholeheartedly and our bodies shudder
with lust. And we touch intentionally and we forget (eventually) we once
thought there were two of us. Always. (this is) The eternal broken down maze.
In the roundabout way we’re chasing each other playing pin the tail on
forever, asleep to songs (sounds) of whatever
Through this garden of delight as night turns to day, day turns dark
Deliberately starting where we stop, ending where we once began.
You’ve given me the gift of permission
To touch you
with my magic tricks.
The spell that wishing is.
Take it as it comes.
Falling away, into the severity that simplicity is.
Our compliance is a moment past control, revealed on the far side of every
breath, too beautifully off the count.
Our dance. (Remembering we’re one. Reveal to me a world to come. where
Love. and the Heart and Talk of Divinity. and Sacred Feminity. is Our
Cause the sun cups my hair as we walk down the street.
In broad daylight he’s always touching me
And those that see me comment on the way he makes me blush:
Catching me in this wild affair
With what is here for all of us.
You have seen me. Staring into you. Dreaming into an endless song. Written
by the quiet daughter of a magician who has made the world her summer.
I give you the key to bypass my intellect.
Within a season to
Unreason with all of it.
Beneath a quiet mind, there is a volcano of heart, a windstorm of limbs, a
universal womb of starships, all ours. And I want to let my skin get used to
the air that follows you, the blessings that cling to your hair. The love
that lingers… there.
And you drink promises from my lips. From spaces so tiny that there is only
room for another world inside. safe from our sight.
The angel to your left likes me, and so does the one to your right. She
likes my taste in jewels and calls me grandmother and friend. They’re
blessing us… they say may all your days be days of awakening
My lover’s call is alone a gang of wolves of
donkeys kicking, governments of fish, and
feeble minds splitting into the pieces they are,
only to find One another again. That is what we have done. Find me, chase
me, jog the memory of love. Bring me to
the worlds we have known, and I will bring you back to earth. The galaxies
we have seen are peaceful. You let all men there decorate you with greenery
and pride and flags with each soul’s emblem of meaning—a compressed memory
of life. Built on subtle hills of understanding we will be. Let us be. May
we always be remembering love.
by Emily Stern
We welcome your feedback.
Your information will not be shared or sold without your consent. Get all the details.
JewishJournal.com has rules for its commenting community.Get all the details.
JewishJournal.com reserves the right to use your comment in our weekly print publication.
10.29.13 at 6:26 pm | Your love could fly, could be grounded, as . . .
10.22.13 at 9:58 am | The repressed heart
10.17.13 at 6:46 am | Parsha Vayera
10.9.13 at 2:11 pm |
9.13.13 at 7:33 am |
8.26.13 at 10:11 am |