Kundalini Splendor

Like Flowers Blooming at Midnight

I know all about
living in caves
with candles and scented prayers,
crossing the desert which never ends
seeking the One who is always near,
spreading my deerskin
in the forest depths
where the spirits of the blue bodied gods
hang like shadows of watching birds.

With the others, I wove
a story of connection,
something mysterious and inscrutable
we called to appear
with our fires and recitations
our songs of supplication and praise . . .
a voice spoke through us
as we sang
and the centuries passed.

This time I came in other garb.
I roamed the avenues,
mingled in the market
with the restless crowds,
watched and listened in alarm
as the world reeled and
spun down
toward its approaching dark.

And I saw that that this
was the time
to take on new knowledge,
move through different space,
hear with unfamiliar ears,
speak with strengthened voice,
atoms transfigured,
senses restrung,
it is happening to us all,
blazing illumination,
beauty erupting in the midst of squalor,
splendor unveiled
on a field of pain,
we are being filled with light
we do not comprehend
lifted toward essence
assaulted by nameless love
at this juncture
of the finalities,
intersection of the unimaginables . . .
this is why we came.

copyright, Dorothy Walters