Monday, November 25, 2019
When You Came to Me––Poem by Dorothy
In my awakening many years ago, I was thrown into ecstasy. People often ask what ecstasy feels like.
This is my attempt to answer. It is not sexual, but rather spiritual love that is erotic. There is no touching, just enlivening of every cell and pore. It is the unconditional love that meets one in heaven as well as in childbirth for some and in music or poetry for others.
When You Came to Me
(for all who know what it is to have a heavenly lover)
Heavy with desire
I came to you.
You, the consummate lover,
took me into your unseen arms:
lightning, frequencies seasoned in eternity,
kisses shaped in other realms,
what could I do but relent?
At last I lay on the floor,
arms outstretched,
and prayed for mercy.
But you were no candles
and soft incense lover.
You were there each morning,
in wait at midnight.
When Zeus came to Semele
she turned to dust.
And I bore it all.
Now all I have
is memories and words
to comfort me.
Like a melody once heard
that clings.
Like a face once seen
that fades and remains as mystery.
Who were you?
What was I?
What was the purpose
of our meeting?
Dorothy Walters
November 24, 2019
This is my attempt to answer. It is not sexual, but rather spiritual love that is erotic. There is no touching, just enlivening of every cell and pore. It is the unconditional love that meets one in heaven as well as in childbirth for some and in music or poetry for others.
When You Came to Me
(for all who know what it is to have a heavenly lover)
Heavy with desire
I came to you.
You, the consummate lover,
took me into your unseen arms:
lightning, frequencies seasoned in eternity,
kisses shaped in other realms,
what could I do but relent?
At last I lay on the floor,
arms outstretched,
and prayed for mercy.
But you were no candles
and soft incense lover.
You were there each morning,
in wait at midnight.
When Zeus came to Semele
she turned to dust.
And I bore it all.
Now all I have
is memories and words
to comfort me.
Like a melody once heard
that clings.
Like a face once seen
that fades and remains as mystery.
Who were you?
What was I?
What was the purpose
of our meeting?
Dorothy Walters
November 24, 2019
