quiet water bird wings
A
person’s life purpose is nothing more than to rediscover, through the
detours of art or love or passionate work, those one or two images in
the presence of which his heart first opened.”
~Albert Camus
the glint of golden light slipped quietly through the egg shell white painted windows
shana sat up in bed, and looked out of focus into the antiqued gold framed mirror
so early- it was before her first alarm would ring-- she looked out of focus
into the mirror, across the room--and saw another glinting light, shaped in a clover
leaf, pressed into the golden wall
she then saw a fuzzy lemon yellow
light surrounding her entire
body, while still gazing into the mirror
~Albert Camus
the glint of golden light slipped quietly through the egg shell white painted windows
shana sat up in bed, and looked out of focus into the antiqued gold framed mirror
so early- it was before her first alarm would ring-- she looked out of focus
into the mirror, across the room--and saw another glinting light, shaped in a clover
leaf, pressed into the golden wall
she then saw a fuzzy lemon yellow
light surrounding her entire
body, while still gazing into the mirror
she would a few years later learn
was simply her aura reminding her
she was safe, vibrant, alive,
with work to do on her dharma path:
a karmic agreement--with side steps, and back-slides
no fears would destroy her, no tears
would slow her persistent striving
she stepped out of bed, and
rushing to throw cold water
onto her face, hoping to release the entity
she thought had any power over her;
it was her power
knocking on her door
the next time it would happen..(and it did happen
dozens of times subsequently) she would face the soul light,
and to the degree she would accept it as being her highest
self in flight, that would be the degree to which she would
be able to fly---high
above her house,
clearly higher
above the pink dogwood--
now in bloom---as she mused in her quiet
solitude, so early the birds welcomed her back,
in her mind--and now, her mind welcomes
these images back forty years later
intact, with quiet joy, ready to step
lively out-- into the sun drenched side walk-
so early in this spring morning
the purple irises still hold
small drops of dawn dew,
holding her highest
aspirations in prayer- providence pushes through
the drapes, bricks, with no resistance:
enters the may air, on quiet water bird wings
was simply her aura reminding her
she was safe, vibrant, alive,
with work to do on her dharma path:
a karmic agreement--with side steps, and back-slides
no fears would destroy her, no tears
would slow her persistent striving
she stepped out of bed, and
rushing to throw cold water
onto her face, hoping to release the entity
she thought had any power over her;
it was her power
knocking on her door
the next time it would happen..(and it did happen
dozens of times subsequently) she would face the soul light,
and to the degree she would accept it as being her highest
self in flight, that would be the degree to which she would
be able to fly---high
above her house,
clearly higher
above the pink dogwood--
now in bloom---as she mused in her quiet
solitude, so early the birds welcomed her back,
in her mind--and now, her mind welcomes
these images back forty years later
intact, with quiet joy, ready to step
lively out-- into the sun drenched side walk-
so early in this spring morning
the purple irises still hold
small drops of dawn dew,
holding her highest
aspirations in prayer- providence pushes through
the drapes, bricks, with no resistance:
enters the may air, on quiet water bird wings
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