Monday, May 13, 2013

let g

Here soar
Not with wings

But with your moving hands and feet
And sweating brows - 

Standing by your Beloved's side
Reaching out to comfort this world

With your cup of solace
Drawn from your vast reservoir of truth. 

thank you. hineni


you must be a miracle

talking to my son before sleep.

“Which is bigger,” he asks me, “the ocean or sky,”
and I want to tell him the heart, which even today
has been practicing vastness, is learning to say yes

in new languages, learning to stretch beyond
the center, beyond the lips, learning to be more moon
and less woman, to reflect light without owning it,

learning to lose whatever it has used before as a measure.
This is the way I want to love: in an idiom stronger
than tongues, I want to love in the way that tides pull

and release, like the moon which holds without touch,
I want to invite the sky to create a bigger space in me
a place spacious enough to hold all the wings

of the passing moment. I want to be buoyant enough
to carry all of love’s weight. “The sky,” I say.
“The sky is bigger, but the ocean is also wide.”

He is satisfied by my words, closes his eyes.
In my chest, a star falls. In my belly
strong tug of tides.

~Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

hello you.

hello. you. beautiful you.

I caught the happy virus last night
When I was out singing beneath the stars.
It is remarkably contagious -
So kiss me.

For I have learned that every heart will get
What it prays for

love you, beautiful you

It would be a miracle if everyone had that perfect balance of loving like tides pull, and releasing like a moon holds without touching. you must be a miracle. p.

כי שמה אלוהים

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