She has her moments
of blissfully naked self-revelation
entirely safe. Fear and doubt have no meaning
her fullness and loveliness, grace and perfection
beaming unhindered through infinite space
absorbed in joy, reflected as love.
She falls in love.
The pleasures of hours pass like mere moments
sighs of contentment expand empty space
oozing with wonder at sheer revelation
of made-for-eachotherness, soul-mate perfection
ripe sensuality, rich primal meaning.
She searches for meaning
confused by words that speak nothing of love
desperately scrubs to restore to perfection
an ego-free union of life in the moment
she struggles to unearth a new revelation
oblivious to needing some space.
She ponders dark space
devoid of all meaning
blind to perfection.
She senses perfection
pervading the intimate vastness of space
silently, patiently buffering the moments
who clamor and bargain and wrestle for meaning
heedless of ludicrous contexts of love
with cunning they seek to prevent revelation.
She receives revelation
willing at last to accept her perfection
of pure bright mysterious trembling love
existing in all points of time and of space
“thou art god, god art thou” finally has meaning
eternity no longer parsed into moments.
Transformed by revelation, at home in space,
birthmarks of perfection, saturated with meaning
breathing and pulsing the rhythms of love. She has her moments.