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

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