Satisfied

The tiles are slick, but that’s all right;

They’ll pad the concrete floor a bit.

Which is the point.

And she’d done the work herself.
But still …

A nagging need to DANCE in the night:

The image of herself
Spinning
in her mind’s eye;
 holy words pouring from her fingertips with the smallest gesture,
every twist of frame,
each placement of the foot clear,
emphatic,

NECESSARY.

But still,
she lays prone in her bed.
She’s moved mountains today.

“Why do I HAVE TO SING JUST NOW?!?”

She screams silent, incredulous.

“Why

Is

It

Always

Me!?!?”

Still. voicelessly irritable.

After a bit,
she drags out of the bedwarm,
a sleepy dog blinks,
befuddled by the motion, looking on.

“Fine. Fine. I’m going.”

dead quiet as she steps out;
a haunted calm;
a command performance,
though no one speaks,
no one is present bodily to do so …

Opening her mouth
a full alto aria weaves itself around her body,
coppery threads specifically conduct the energy produced

And movement!

Her voice flows into higher registers and,
becoming liquid, flowing golds so vivid
their purity blinds with even
a fragmented glance

And fire snaps the crucible open
spilling compassion from the hearts of god,
flinging INTENT TOWARD RIGHT RELATION
into each and every soul

A sacrifice of sound that changes space-time,
shimmering it until all times are easily
Perceived at once by even mortals

Though they’ll shake their heads;
decide to schedule that massage they’ve been putting off,
or vow no more pizza after midnight,
no more drug,
no more drink …

Because what they saw just couldn’t be.

No.

Never was.

Don’t speak of it.

It’s madness to speak only that which is.

And there he stands. 
At the edge of the greenwood glade
Illumined by the holy sounds of love
poured out on all
in pure awareness of love alone
There.

The Great Beloved.