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Slow down....inside I am right here I am not where you are going I am the place you leave to find me I am Holy Fire Do you trust me? I am the One who makes your heart beat and every heart beat I am the Portal to the indescribable flame within you I am every longing you have ever felt and every passion you have ever suppressed I am Aliveness Open Allow Be danced Do you trust me? If you want to know bliss to feel passion burn You must become available to be astonished and amazed by the simplest things Notice the way when you wiggle your toes a tendril of joy quietly sprouts inside your chest Notice how you can run your fingertips on the edges of your skin and rivers of desire become instantly fulfilled You can take one single breath and watch your body explode in gratitude for living Then you can exhale and melt into the Great Fire of life's fertile emptiness You are the Portal It costs nothing....except everything you have ever dreamed you are Your dissatisfaction is a dream Your disappointment is a dream I am right here I have always been right here It really is this innocent Savor me Enter me Ignite - a compilation of poetry excerpts by Maya Luna
Once it was in my dreams, a place that could home angels. Their spirits and beauty captured in a moment, so pure and white. A building, surrounded by draping plants and rolling slopes, covered by small olive trees and lavender bushes. A building stretched, touching the sky, not reaching the clouds, yet they leaned over, rolling down the slopes enveloping the worshipped state of mind. Drinking its sweet milk, admiring its white columns, watching the love angels dance, while bathing in the sun's gaze. In my dreams I am always taken back to a place like this, my hopes end here; peace, love and hope fill my heart. I am the clouds, I watch and admire, I see the angels, I see the rolling slopes covered in fragrant flowers, I run down the hill, I watch the people living simple colorful lives. Every upcoming step is a mystery, they do not seek to satisfy their needs by traveling to achieve it somewhere else but mold what they have, carving their lives out in the hills surrounding them. Feeling the safety of the tall revered temple that stands on the hill, hold them, embracing them, filling the empty holes they once felt inside when they questioned the great meanings. Their loved ones living close, down the street in that slender Italian stone house they spoke their first words in. In their arms the light of their life gurgles, a halved toothed mouth smiling up at their gleaming faces. This bundle of joy, part of a new generation of beautiful souls. As you walk through the stony streets, towards the mountain top the smell of cigarette and coffee dwindles, pushed away by the vibrant notes of geranium and lavender. These paths hold generations of memories, and memories yet to come. Some day when I return, I'll walk these streets listening to the stories held by the rocks, their emotions, the happy and melancholy, Maybe one day it will no longer be a dream. - Amelie Locke, January 2019 In honor of Amelie Locke August 14, 2002 - October 1, 2020 |
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