Thursday, September 9, 2010

Haunting Beauty!

 Come evening, my silent rendezvous,
raising my eyes toward the celestial sky,
I gaze into the night, to find the moon
encased in sublime velvet
silently moving across the heavens,
that I be intrepid to wonder in awe.
Deeper into the night,
the moon lights up half the room,
while a soundless whisper from the wind
dances with the candle 
casting deep shadows on the wall.
In their simplicity, 
with every passing breeze,
the leaves swirl and dance about
in the garden and back again
and all along the road.

The blueness of the winds sharp breath
enters my chamber
without permission and penetrates
the deep strata of my soul exposing
the naked and raw fastened from a fragile fabric
ephemeral -the fear -the loneliness -the pain,
shielding the beauty that hides inside.
The aroma of the night air fills me
with a compelling desire suddenly
I give way to the seduction that
surrounds and sequester my senses.

Alive with pulsing energy through my veins,
I sway to breath's rhythm and dance
to the beat of my heart, 
racing through the woods,
upon entering holy ground,
I take off my shoes,
and enter the autumn water!
 Stars float in infinite space 
and my thoughts
collide into the one universe
where dreams meet reality,
tears of joy pour forth
falling like mighty rain
as kundalini unleashed 
bursting open the petals. 

Brighten with pure light
the water and the soul,
exuding ecstasy within 
explodes in liquid brilliance.
Blessings pour forth 
from a celestial mind, gone now,
are the endless dust-storm of troubles,
and the peccadilloes of my soul.


In Immortal Beloved,1994, 
the film about Ludwig van Beethoven, 
there is one scene of such power 
and haunting beauty, 
it captured my imagination,
and spoke to my soul.
I promise you it will stay 
with you forever.
While you are watching 

this short 4 minute clip, 
it is art at its most dynamic, 
invites us to dream,
to  live outside ourselves, 
and go beyond and dream even greater


photos NASA, rodney smith, piano, anna shishkina, tumblr, cello, Jean Claude-Dresse