This outpouring of words came in a moment of stillness on the morning of June 2nd, while sitting beneath these fruiting Peruvian pepper trees, in the dappled sunlight of morning, in the presence of space and pen and paper. It has been very minimally edited.
Thus.
Silence in the center, the sun cascading across these hands, ancient like leather, both familiar and not, in the presence of these birds and the forces of creation.
Today my voice sings through the river, carrying melodies of fern and flowering dreams. Women, it seems, are always gestating - visions, children, recipes, melodies.
Through the prayer of eternity flowering, through this moment of perfection: a pebble is tossed into the stillness. A request, a memory, a longing and at last, a perfect and total release. The mystery holds more wisdom and creativity than ever the personal could, so upon this thread of devotion, I string my prayers, open.
Open to the unfathomable contents of manifestation, the miracle power, the mundane revelation, a flock of jungle birds chanting alive the sunrise. Here in this space, a circle of life, a lover, a daughter; a stone in the center, a jungle, a snow capped peak, a quiet spring, a herd of deer, a single buffalo. Here, eternity, the white innocence of the caribou, the carved bone and deer antler; here, divine now, a bundle of herbs, their fragrant smoke. Here, divine present, a swirling snowfall, an arctic breeze, the spray of sea foam. Here, the web of life is fruiting beyond memory, the wind of an ancient temple, the ringing of bells, the silence of frost. Here, divine prayer of universal wellness, the sprout of new life and the quiet cracking of egg shell.
In a holy wave of present infinity, the cloak of divinity showers these fingers with quiet revelation, a murmur in the breeze, a holy reckoning, the totality of completion, the settled wonder of timelessness. Here, the prayer ripples, deep into the web of a translucent she-spider, who by her very nature weaves the dream awake. Weaves the dream awake. Weaves the dream awake.
Come, here, to this quiet pool in the forest, dip your toes in perfection, shine your sorrows into the shimmering sunlight reflected by water on stone, dip yourself whole again, renew yourself in the antiquity, watch the moon rise, daughter of silence, pour your words of truth into the bubbling spring so both can be made whole again: reborn, purified, prayer-ified, illuminated, translucent, liquid, flowing fragrance of riverbank honey, fill us with your life of light, born of light, dappled in light, a soft apricot ripe on the vine - child. You are the completion of a thousand prayers, the contemplation of the translucent she-spider, a tiny star in the constellation of Love weaving her dew drops across the sky of the heart - child. You are a dream. Enlivened by love, enshrined in light, walking each hallowed step home to the spinning wheel of Holiness herself.
Measure this moment in surrender, with open arms, in the pulsing echo of a hummingbird’s wings. You are, light divine, this Life, sublime, here and here and here again. Sunlight moving through the leaves.
A light, a loon, a Hare Krishna mantra whispered through the floorboards - a witnessing, a remembering, an intimacy born of silence, a language born of stillness, a water born of truth.
Here, divine content of memory, guide me awake into the fulfillment of this miracle power, a branch on your tree, a sentence in your saga, a sigh in your symphony.
Guide me, holy creation of oneness, into the heart of it all, allow me to surrender and thus remember your vision through me. Take it all, beloved light of Mystery, take the fraying strands of my clinging, both subtle and obtuse, reconstruct my circuitry to receive your imprint in me. Let light flow from these hands like the arctic blues and greens dancing in the great northern night skies. Let there be fragrance in my footsteps, honey in the heart and surrendering to the unfathomable orchestration of the resurrection of Life.
(This hallowed memory is not a memory at all, but an actuality, a living presence in the space of eternity.)
All is one: Creation.
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Much love,
Leah