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There is no refuge No destination No resolution Only This Blessed are the fruit of my womb Blessed are the cycles that have no end Blessed is the Wound Blessed is the Hole Blessed is the space that holds you always Blessed is this unfinished life Blessed is the eternal and unchanging Blessed are we who bear the unbearable who carry our cross from first to last breath Blessed are we who know the relentless mercy of the Mysterious Other known only when we sacrifice our reaching There is no refuge No destination No resolution Only This To you who are the Birther of Samsara and the doorway to Nirvana To you whose Love is the bridge that flows between them To you who holds the mirror of perfection inside the crack of imperfection whose Road leads nowhere and is everywhere To you whose breast is the refuge of no refuge To you whose passion dissolves all ignorance and whose innocence reveals unstained beauty Enveloped by your Grace With nowhere to go Around and around Heart to the Ground Here I am -Maya Luna
In these moments I let myself thaw from noun to verb, finding my own liquidity, and let gravity begin to pull like an old, sweet summoning, I then sluice through labyrinthian cracks in my own becoming, flowing faithfully right to the feet of this great mountain of stillness behind my sternum. And then - here I am ancient, drunk on the richness of gaining absolutely nothing at all. - Brooke McNamara |
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