Tendrils loosened yesterday.
For some, invisible chains dropped away.
For others, self-definitions tightly-wound,
rigid forms that have been nailed to the ground,
were disintegrated by the gentlest breeze of renewal.
Through a luminous coaxing of a sort,
we've entered a new drift on a Great Tide.
The heaviness of the Dense Body has been lightened.
The fierce hooked-in compression of the Desire Body has been loosened.
The thirst of the Peace-Seeking Body has received unspoken permission
to look for deeper wells and farther-reaching tributaries of nourishment.
In my own encampment,
I feel the Triune Body Within the Body
being pulled by forces I cannot see.
A Three-Fold Waking is perfectly reflected within each.
Waking; as if opening eyes after a long sleep.
Waking; like the Irish 'joking men'
who come in after a funeral's keening women
to move everyone along from mourning to celebration.
Waking; like a small boat
pulled in along behind
a moon disappearing over the horizon.
"Holograph" / from an evolving collection entitled Alightenment: Dispatches on The Way
(c) 2018 / Frank LaRue Owen (Wandering Stone Lantern) / purelandpoetry.com
sound: We Continue / Spiral Revelation / Steve Roach