Pressure builds
to DANCE
to SING
to communicate REALITY as it IS
in every dimension
to mend the sky
as must be done
to sing the songs
in my native tongue
the words that dance and move the worlds
the words that spark the healing light
I am the goddess
the Great Fox loves
and at whose shrine He serves
“I did not marry below my station,
Delight; nor did you marry above yours,”
He often says, while
fiddling with my hair in bed ~
Celestial pillow talk
the daughter of the Emperor who ruled Al Kaid’s
many little worlds;
From our palace lit by the star
at the end of the handle of the Great Dipper -
but humans call it so many things;
the Plough,
the Seven Stars;
tail of the Great Bear ~
from whence comes luck
and life and joy and justice
The flowing Dao pours eternally onto Earth
from thence . . .
and yet
this small human body
~a failing meat mecha that doesn’t mesh with it’s pilot at all~
cannot hold all of me
never holds all of me
being fully present in it
causes overload
short-circuits the neurology
too many smells,
Degrees of touch,
Tastes attack - and textures too
too many shades of light refraction
light itself weighs heavy on these 3D bones
too much pressure on the body
And on its pilot
too much of everything
without any prioritization protocols
requiring frequent shut downs
and cold reboots
and even so
PRESSURE BUILDS
TO DANCE THE TRUTH
to dance the worlds into being
to repair the sky
across the worlds
Starting in this bodied mess
And teach the children
To walk the stars
To heal their deepest selves
Kali Yuga ends
as it always does,
going out with a bang this time
if these children are not careful
and they are not
~ the willful brats ~
so the mission is simple, oh so simple
but not the easiest thing
“You’ve done it before, Delight.
I don’t know why you’re worried,”
The Great Fox says,
“You need only rewire the cosmos!”
AGAIN
to DANCE THE TRUTH
AGAIN
to sing the words of return
that saved the children
of the planet we escaped
so long ago
the dance that brought us safely
to this little earth
But, Oh! my love!
That was ten-thousand years
And as many bodied lifetimes ago, at least.
That was before the humans
were warped
were made slaves
were the first GMO to touch this world
I am so tired, Beloved One.
But I will Walk the Stars for You.
And I will do my best
To mend the many colored sky.
One soul at a time.
<I am the author. This poem was originally posted to wordpress.com 4/10/2018.>
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