Traveling through the depths of Her being,
In love corners of expressions,
She tricks me into believing.
I follow with eyes blind and emotions fleeting,
Leaving the world behind.
I am intoxicated and dysfunctional,
Legs unsteady, shaking with anticipations,
That never come true beyond my imagination.
I design a world for Her to visit.
She arrives when my longings are highest.
I am fulfilled by my own embellishments.
Reading impressions of sophistries',
I lay in wait for fanciful pastimes,
Creating beauteous holographic realities.
When I still my fancy, I hear Her voice.
She quietly recites, "Valour, dear one, valour."
All Rights Reserved (c) 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Nomadic Findings
Across the borders She resided like air that follows lungs.
An ever present traveling companion.
Called by many languages.
In forms multitude she remained constant in appearances.
The tongues of time named her diversities.
They crowned Her head of Legions.
They adored Her naked or robed.
They explained on a multitude of parchments.
She is called Netzach and Creatress,
MATRKA, word and letters,
Spanda, wave and movement.
She is the Dark Mother, Empress and Queen.
She is lover, lifter, slaughterer and enslaver.
She is a sweet surrender, tender are Her chains.
She is nurturer and chastiser.
Fed by the fruit of the vine and welped by the swinging branches,
She cultivates.
Slaying the false reality donned,
The mask manufactured,
The small self created.
Granting boons and dressing in attributes.
Never taking away, but rising mundane delusions to new meaning.
Divinizing aspects and revealing the face of a heart.
Giving clear spectacles with new proportions.
She is Lillith slayer of the ego child.
She is Kali reconstructionist of the false perceptions and attachments.
She is Inanna, who carries one to the depths of the dark side of soul,
Naked and robbed of riches and protection, hung on a hook, left to die.
When lost in Her Kamaloka, personal dirty laundry is cycled through Her Universal Washing Machine.
As Saraswati She wises one up.
As Shekinah She copulates.
As Durga She empowers a weak heart.
As Kundalini She ignites.
She is delusion and liberation.
She is negative and positive aspects.
She is all the inbetweens.
She is a sweet seductress and a stern guide.
Sometimes veiled in darkness
Other times illuminated in dawn light streams.
All Rights Reserved (c) 2006
And.....
Nameless By Tzvi Freeman
High upon her precipice, the soul is nameless, for she has no form - she will be whatever she must be.
Peering below, beneath the clouds, she perceives a faint shimmering of her light in the deep, wet earth. There she finds form, and she calls it a name, and she is called when that name is called, for she says, "This is me."
But it is not her. It is only a faint glimmering of her light within the frame of a distant world.
http://www.chabad.org/library/article.asp?AID=36342
An ever present traveling companion.
Called by many languages.
In forms multitude she remained constant in appearances.
The tongues of time named her diversities.
They crowned Her head of Legions.
They adored Her naked or robed.
They explained on a multitude of parchments.
She is called Netzach and Creatress,
MATRKA, word and letters,
Spanda, wave and movement.
She is the Dark Mother, Empress and Queen.
She is lover, lifter, slaughterer and enslaver.
She is a sweet surrender, tender are Her chains.
She is nurturer and chastiser.
Fed by the fruit of the vine and welped by the swinging branches,
She cultivates.
Slaying the false reality donned,
The mask manufactured,
The small self created.
Granting boons and dressing in attributes.
Never taking away, but rising mundane delusions to new meaning.
Divinizing aspects and revealing the face of a heart.
Giving clear spectacles with new proportions.
She is Lillith slayer of the ego child.
She is Kali reconstructionist of the false perceptions and attachments.
She is Inanna, who carries one to the depths of the dark side of soul,
Naked and robbed of riches and protection, hung on a hook, left to die.
When lost in Her Kamaloka, personal dirty laundry is cycled through Her Universal Washing Machine.
As Saraswati She wises one up.
As Shekinah She copulates.
As Durga She empowers a weak heart.
As Kundalini She ignites.
She is delusion and liberation.
She is negative and positive aspects.
She is all the inbetweens.
She is a sweet seductress and a stern guide.
Sometimes veiled in darkness
Other times illuminated in dawn light streams.
All Rights Reserved (c) 2006
And.....
Nameless By Tzvi Freeman
High upon her precipice, the soul is nameless, for she has no form - she will be whatever she must be.
Peering below, beneath the clouds, she perceives a faint shimmering of her light in the deep, wet earth. There she finds form, and she calls it a name, and she is called when that name is called, for she says, "This is me."
But it is not her. It is only a faint glimmering of her light within the frame of a distant world.
http://www.chabad.org/library/article.asp?AID=36342
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Love Looked
Love looked without her eyes today.
A deepening wonder claimed the canvas.
Designs of heart strobes galently ebbed and flowed,
Serene in liquid movement.
She retreated and returned from dreamscapes,
Mysteriously reaching into worlds untouched,
Searching the distances of her own creation.
Looking for that which sprouted life dances.
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