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A former techie and now a "deep-seeing mystic" and student of western Sufism. Moving more into spiritual service -- as an energy healer, teacher, Elder.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

for Gabrielle

Renting your garments, you bare your heart before the Madonna, the Goddess, the Icon. Stopping at teach temple entry, you ask "is this the face of the Mother? I do not dare to enter her temple with such dirty feet."

Turning back, you dance your desire and your questioning, not seeing that at each portal you were like the bee, your robes coated with her multiple essence. Your dance, scattering her presence like rich pollen, dusting all around you with her golden fertile seeds. The dirt at your feet bursting a bed of fine grasses behind your every step.

Now your eyes are open, your robes are washed and mended. Your feet in dancing slippers. The pollen is in your hands -- the mothers are smiling, an the earth awaits your touch.

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