by Albert Ahearn |
The September odoriferous winds
Are not unlike my lover’s perfumed breath.
Their sometimes subtleties, like cherubs wings
Moving warm fragrant air across the earth;
Like unto slumberous respirations
My lover’s exhalations warm my bed.
Yet winds must change, their aberrations,
Those once heated airs turn to rage instead
Whose blustering breaths blow prodigiously
Like our passion’d breaths from pillowed-heads,
Panting, respiring uncontrollably.
December dawns, the wind is lulled unwed
And virgin snow falls onto earthly spread.
Thus, not unlike this maiden in my bed.
by Unseeking Seeker |
Presence centred in the void fearless
With the thread of truth in alignment
Outpouring love in silence & stillness
Motiveless flows in quiet contentment
Empathetic & warm to agitated souls
Recognising aberrations as temporary
Tranquil compassion making all whole
Radiating joy in gentleness sedentary
Reaching out in an impulsive embrace
Flowing in the continuum with elation
Both imbibing & radiating divine grace
The flow of life itself is our meditation