Existence Seeking Form

The world seems to sleep
as she awakens in his dream
delving for the source of all creation
knowing that his light still streams
subdued now in intensity
just now within this peace
of the slumbering of all awakening
(praying he will understand
this overarching need of hers
to be, just simply be
yet love her still)

as she attempts yet once again
to describe within her words
the one and only source of all reality
beyond and yet within her, too
for within this incubation
lies the matrix of creation's form
(for all that's most essential
creates this flow of words
forever seeking to exist
within his gentle understanding)

A poetess, a muse perhaps, yet more
than any words can e'er describe
for she is the voice of his own soul
and now, within this alchemy of transformation
attempts again creation of all form's reality
that ever seems to be just beyond reach
and every mental concept of all mind's totality
(yet still she seeks the cooling warmth
that only this unfeeling heat can ever understand
and this, somehow within the dark of night
that still exists within the center of it all)

for love
the one and only true reality
within its meaning
lies beyond complexity
just across the boundary
of all that thought's made real
and it cannot be pre-planned
for it waits beyond mind's understanding
(even as we seek, we want, we need
so much more than mind alone
can ever come to comprehend)

and planning seems to be
no more than form to stone
yet still, we seek, we want, we need
love over and above, beneath
and yet encompassing this feeling realm
that too, forever seems just out of reach
for it flows beyond, it streams
encompassing all understanding
(or might this be just where
pure intuition enters in . . . ?)

and love is the one true quality
that lives beyond belief itself
to speak now
of all life lived at its peak
that seeks no more
than just the source of creativity
lying in one moment of existence
that can only be described
and then experienced
as creation of all time and mind itself
(yet here within a realm
where time does not exist at all)

ah, and then this quality descends
just like the summer's dusk
healing with its meaning
e'en now in this ascension
of the dawn of all awakening
soft as dusk and gentle
like a cooling summer breeze
that eases the intensity of sun
(this soothing breeze that blows
forever through the heat of sun's intensity
in an essence of pure air)

soft and silky, sensuous
oh, cooling heat of fire
arising through the dark
that is, too, essential to forever love
in this one moment of its pure awakening
yet conceived just here
within these deeper realms of indigo
that compose the nighttime skies
even as the stars
so distant and yet so enticing
shine down upon us all
calling to the sun to rise again
(and in innocence we join
just now, within this peace composed
of all ascension in descension)

bright, intense, yet intimate
this glow so soft and sweet and cool
while seeming far away from who we are
but too, inclusive of all mind itself
that only seems to think by day
of what we want and wish to be
(yet this is merely a transition
alike, yet somehow different
than the cyclic flow of nature
that every night brings back into
another dawn of day)

while here, alone
guarded in its solitude
exotic scents will enter into innocence
as we breathe, just breathe
this love into existence
(reminding us that air is real
although invisible
and that each breath we take
and then release
will always be essential)

when satin, deep within all color
seems to slide along our skin
yet too, right here, right now
along this flesh of which
we only seem to be composed
and a new tingling feeling enters in
so very deep within all dreams
(this great imagining of spirit
seeking for totality of form)

'tis here, just here, within transitioning
that a higher power enters in
to begin to ease the pain of past
into the future of awakening
yet once again within this realm
of dream becoming future's form
(a pure and yet unending
subtle feeling of transcendent power
this existence ever seeking
of who we are, yet more
for it seeks the all that each, alone
in unity, are ever meant to be)

while we are free
now free to choose the course
of these streams of love
now opening out
into forever realms
of heart and soul
born again into
this flesh of form . . .

?Michaelette?

7/22/2000
Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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