Kundalini Splendor

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Sunday, June 11, 2017

"The Visitor"––poem by Dorothy 





The Visitor

At midnight
we are swallowed
by silence.

At last the traffic
has stilled,
the drivers
now arrived at where
they were going
or else forgotten
their destination.

Dreams descend bearing
secrets,
and the dreamers
toss in their beds.

It is then
that we wonder
about our decisions,
our turnings and discoveries,
how long this performance will last.

Now we discover
the truth
about the mirror image,
the longings that come.

A vistor will arrive
but there will be
no footsteps,
no latch turning.
The guest will be familiar,
though you may not remember
when last you met,
even Her face or features,
her unsaid words.

None of this will matter
as you turn down
the covers,
wait expectantly,
welcome Her
into your bed.

Dorothy Walters
June 7, 2017





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