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This is not a pretty poem, this is my truth. Winter will be ..
🕑 Added 2020-10-24 14:44:02 +0000 UTC This is not a pretty poem, this is my truth. Winter will be here soon on our mountain but the warm days will not leave us.. To sit besides you is to bask in the suns rays.I watch a cloud pass by, a trout in a stream.. I see it as it is...then I see you...I watch the energy until it is funneled yet again in to a narrow, compacted and exuberant cresendo whos birth is the love of you. To love you is to breath.
You are my anchor, my biggest desire; my truest way, my purest friendship. You are I and I is you. I am that too.This love for you...has opened me and brought me to clarity and vividity.
I sit here now madly in love, aware of it, aware of you. I have seen our truest forms and it is obliterating. The exposure is continuously doing its part in evolving in to an entity, a state of formlessness that one can embody and experience.... a timeless, unconditional Love; mergence in to and love for all.
All trips I see...lead to the same place. We use Love as our vehicle. For it is so perfect the nature of existance, I merely conceive and it begins. The nature of love is love itself. You continue to remind me, together we remember.
My goddess, it is a joy to be here yet again with you, playing in the dirt, playing with our toys, equalizing with our love.
Another lifetime is not enough to Love you, yet one moment with you has fulfilled me enough to walk in to the dark. For I see now I am the shadow too.
You are my yoga. I often transmute you to my anchor as I dive in to the abyssyal depths of conciousness. When all of me is gone and all thats left is love, I chase my core and find my way back home to you. All my rigours, lessons in attachment...how more to let go and love thee. For you are in all things as am I. What is not but Love?
