Love is not in the air as Spring usually would indicate. No it sits there right in the very center of my wounded chest. Going deeply into that center of that wound, the longing wets my eyes at first, they por down my cheeks, emotions erupts for a while, its not sentimental, its pure and innocent. And then there is presence, all over the place, wide and limitless, an ocean without shores. When I behold you with my mind and open, undefended heart, YOU who sees me, who feels me, who knows me, who IS me, who is inside me….yes its mysterious, and it turns me on. My longing is my path to the center,
love is me letting you in, you willing to come in
it is the meeting I always longed for
right now you have no body
but i feel you as my soul
personal and transpersonal both.
Right now you have no face,
but you know who you are.