February 1 2019 — Lena Cole

Guatemaya 2019

Curiosity strikes as inspiration ignites

Engaging my environment in a conversation

What is being told to me, how might I respond

How might I melt and be enraptured by the slow

Steady pulsating growing glow of what is and whats to come

How might I listen with every breath and be aglow

To the murmurings painting the sky with their wings as softly as snow

Falls to the ground without making a sound

Yet piles up to become somewhat of a construct of a something that could be plowed

When I steady my gaze, and allow for another glaze to brighten my spectrum and show

Itself in all the ways its lights up and stays

To unfold onto itself as it goes

Making space for more creative ways, orange begins to christen my nativity

And the process of gatekeeping has begun surreptitiously.

It comes alive with a devious smile, yet the deepening provides no place for fear

For as I dive in, with a seemingly stunning sin, I bring pleasure and pride into my fold.

Embracing my bliss as it flows, as it grows as it turns on its nose

As the tingles align every molecule in my spine, and breach horizontally outwards to the tips of my skin,

The sin, of belonging, of landing, of wanting

To be home fully in this body with this soul

Is nothing to banish rather welcome and relinquish

All times I cast this feeling aside

Instead feel cold and unalive,

Wading in the purgatory of the outside

Of the seeing in, but not feeling intrinsically kin

To myself

To my blood

To my veins

How deep can I feel it

This expressive aspect glistens

And desires to be heard felt and seen

As a pouring begins at the seems

As an overflowing falls out of my feet

Into the betrothed beloved mother earth below me

She usurps my energy and welcomes the abundance flying out of every pore and see

Every tree is experiencing this each and every day

As a human I just temporarily lost my way

Making road blocks and treacherous locks to giving myself to myself…

What gift is greater than knowing what I'm made of

What the essence of creation has been holding within me

Just waiting for the right space to be recieved in

To be relieved in

To believed in

As I unravel a lifetime of overseeing it

This lock box I've thought was the epitome of some dark path unseen,

Rather to unwrap itself and show its unfathomable beauty.

What an honor to be entrusted

With the thrusting motion that becomes this

Doorway into the light of the moon,

May she sing like a loon as she sweeps over our heads as a beacon, as a reminder of who

Whence I was from and where I will go,

And from whom I was birthed and from where everything flows

From the keeper of the night, to all the sparks left to become a light,

Of all the DNA floating in the stream

Of consciousness of identityless memories

Of times future and past,

A bounding of timelessness,

Of being blessed with entry into ones own home

To rest

To open whats been supressed, repressed and depressed

May this essence flow, glow and presuppose any more being cut off at its toes

May we all know,

The truth how all life goes

So within, so without,

Without needing to shout, although sometimes a scream is in order…

I am made of all that I see, what is that is also me

I am the beaconing of a lovers guise, constantly searching for a place to land my desiring supple and watering eyes,

Yet rather than containing that to a floating and changing figure

I banish desire all together,

Knowing that all that I seek is before me in all moments,

May I tear down my armor

And be as soft as precious conjoinments

Before the sun rises

With the whole sky yearning, for the light of another day as the colors turn fluid

As the world turns, day by day, never resisting or straying away

From the powers at be,

As daunting as they may seem

Being invited to share in the creative play,

Of living each moment of every day

A magical mystical spiraling way

Of rediscovering the mysteries at bay

Just waiting and wishing for me to take my seat

And bow instead at my own feet

Kissing my toes and each palm of my hands

What is more pure than loving each grain of sand

Each cell that was once one,

A culmination of absolute love

Split from there into two

To understand the polarities of separating from the cocoon

Of warm waters embrace and shivering shuttering fires of grace

As bountiful as can be, wrapped up in a dream

Wondering how it can get better,

Wearing my scarlet letter

With pride and with dignity

I will walk with my head held proudly

Knowing that my fire is no sin

But a privilege of my kin

Of my lineage who walks behind me

And all thats to come, I speak with them high in my mind and think

Of the possibilities that lay ahead,

Simply resting my head

Upon the earths surface

Usurping my tensions and burdens

I know I don't dance alone

And I know deep into my bones

I am simply one of many loving without abandon

And weeping when clearing needs to happen

And stepping aside for the medicine of now

And holding that transience and transpermanence of personality’s grip

Being instead a being who's being

Open to receiving

And dying to be believed in.

With roots anchored in gratitude

A mind full of prayer

And a heart, bounding boisterously in the present

I open to unwravel, miles of travel down the endless road of beloved trails and I relinquish every jail

I use my voice as my greatest tool, I craft my words with an impeccable obsidian rule,

Yet dancing like a fool and beaming new life into the soil, I cast the seeds of light to rise to the surface, to make this garden abundant and perfect,

And in all my imperfection,

I celebrate my human incarnation

And the recalibration of joy and celebration,

While knowing the hard work that lies ahead,

My heart beacons to my head,

We may do this one together or apart,

Knowing that every break will only make me restart,

I align with the heart of hearts

To guide my way

And feel my intentions as they start

To illuminate and whisper as they say,

That there was ever only one,

I am here

I have begun.