Kundalini Splendor

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Friday, January 07, 2011

poem by Kay Christa 

After reading "Statues" by Lisel Mueller

You asked what moves in me that yearns to break free.
I cannot name it, but it feels like . . .
A flame in two cupped hands, my body draped long in traveling clothes - setting out on a dark night.
A velvety curtain behind which the secrets of the universe are concealed.
My belly a great bowl scooped full of stars
And beauty, that beloved muse, sets every cell on fire and each hair a strand of golden light.
The secret garden filled with music and jewels from the Tales of the Arabian Nights my father gave me
Inanna in descent to her dark sister and Carol my beloved Ninshubur
A simple and ardent love of silence
The feeling that something completely remarkable is about to be revealed
Awareness of the miraculous in the mundane
loving ordinary moments, washing dishes, kindling a fire
tears of gratitude streaming
There are no ordinary moments
only I too tired or distracted to witness the miracle
my eyes frozen like a statue.

by Kay Christa

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