Black holes expand quick. They boom into non-existence
Eating up space.
Desiring open emptiness,
Entering intimacy:
Nothing
Infolding over and into itself.
Sensual tugs touch.
Slowing down, slow-mo
A reversal of momentum,
Of time
Looping backwards and
Going Nowhere.
But further in,
Returning.
Getting to know a place.
Gestures swallowed.
The only thing left in the world is to bow down,
To This:
A responsibility to Awe
An ability to respond to Awe
To let Awe pour.
Slight Sideways slip into Here.
Back footed black holes,
The dance of Yin:
In-between flow and
Omnidirectional Silence,
Staying still
Deep
Abiding
Rest
Only to magnify the joy of Beingness
A feather falling on a wet rolling ocean of tears....
Grief of a million galaxies.
Where Black holes multiply
To consume our shadows -
A tender orchestra of parts,
Floating in bliss once again.
Angles are singing in my feet,
Ecstatic toes
Riffing on airwaves,
Conducting pure life.
The soft grace of space
Of the beckoning void...
The fire has a lot to bite and burn tonight,
And transformation is slow.
Eons of time
Chomping through the centre of the earth.
I feel humbled.
I hear the mumble.
The herds of cattle thundering through mud.
An offering of Soul.
There may be more black-holes than something. More potential than we care to notice.
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