Fierce, frighteningly honest energy,
yawning outward from the center of existence,
connecting everything that lives, everything that is,
binding us with invisible strands that can never be severed or stilled.
But which can be ignored....most of the time.
Even death is powerless before this brilliance, which is
greater than the the volume of the Universe
and yet...(stay with me)...within each of us.
This force, the essence of who we are and what we are,
is our birthright, but it is tricky.
To inherit, we must consent to set Ego aside
and let ourselves become completely vulnerable to it,
baring the throat, baring the belly.
If you say you are not afraid, you are lying.
There are safe rooms within all of us.
Places where griefs and betrayals are hidden
when we are worn thin with wrestling them.
We will the door shut, turn the key and walk away.
We protect ourselves. We think we have them beaten.
Then one day we are distracted by a voice in song,
by lovers entangled, colors in the sky, memory,
we are mesmerized by such holiness and unconsciously
let down our guard, sighing ourselves open to beauty.
A million sorrows float free.
Loneliness comes spilling out.
Ancient regrets silently creep up to grab us
by the throat, and once again we are bent and weeping.
The Arts force us to feel, to open, to release.
There are other ways to open that room.
There is love.
Once in a great while, someone will
bring enough love into the room that it breaks
our hearts open and helps to heal them.
Someone will look into our eyes and gift us with
mingled breath and a warm mouth,
to resuscitate our soul.