What will you do with the last good days?
Before the seas rise and the skies close in,
before the terrible bill
for all our thoughtless wanting
finally comes due?

What will you do
with the last fresh morning,
filled with the watermelon scent
of cut grass and the insistent
bird calling sweet   sweet
across the shining day?

Crops are dying, economies failing,
men crazy with the lust for power and fame
are shooting up movie theaters and
engineering the profits of banks.

It is entirely possible
it only gets worse from here.
How can you leave your heart
open to such a vast, pervasive sadness?
How can you close your eyes
to the riot of joy and beauty
that remains?

The solutions, if there are any
to be had, are complex, detailed,
demanding.  The answers
are immediate and small.

Wake up.  Give thanks.  Sing.

    - Lynn Ungar

The coals go out,
The last smoke wavers up
Losing itself in the stars.
This is my first night to lie
In the uncreating dark.

In the human heart
There sleeps a green worm
That has spun the heart about itself,
And that shall dream itself black wings
One day to break free into the black sky.

I leave my eyes open,
I lie here and forget our life,
All I see is that we float out
Into the emptiness, among the great stars,
On this little vessel without lights.

I know that I love the day,
The sun on the mountain, the Pacific
Shiny and accomplishing itself in breakers,
But I know I live half alive in the world,
Half my life belongs to the wild darkness.

​    - Galway Kinnell

​With the drawing of this Love and the voice of this Calling

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always--
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

​ - T.S. Eliot, from the Four Quartets

​It's not about becoming a slithering "Goddess" wearing feathers in your hair... 

Its not about the "power" of how enchanting you can seem 

When you swirl those hips and hypnotize the wild eyes of oh so many men...

You must shed those pretty layers

Peel off the skin of your appearance

Unravel your addiction to performance 

Drop beneath the surface 

Feel the ripple of that current that lives underneath

In the Deep...

You see...

There is a Supple Secret in the Serpent of your Spine. 

A Liberation Revealed

A key inside a hidden lock 

Nestled in the space between your Vertebrae

Sssssssssssssssss

Yes. 

Do you know the Truth that was whispered into Eve's ear? 

The one that turned Heaven and Earth inside out? 

Sssssssssssssssssss

This is not about the glamour of your performance
Or... 
The indulgence of a pleasure that is sticky sweet like candy

You have known Drunkenness 

But have you ever been Awake inside the nectar? 

Sober and Lucid in the Fullness of Love? 

It's in the cracks in between. 

Known only through language of circle and spiral.

Unlocked with the key of that twisting bending S.

Yes. 

Infinity lives here. 

Inside the tiniest drop of subtlety. 

Known through the technology 

Embedded in your spine.

No, not Ma Kundalini.

This is even before that.

Older than ancient.

The Holy Grail. 

The chalice of Fulfillment. 

The apple of crazy wisdom. 

You contain the portal. 

You hold the key. 

Vastness. 

Power. 

Liquid Everlasting Love. 

Heaven on Earth is Here. 

The Serpent knew. 

She knows. 

But it isn't what you think.

Of course, it never is.....

The truth has been buried in the Deep Underground

The Resurrection begins now. 

In the secret garden 

Hidden in your Spine

     ~ Maya Luna