For My Beloved

[Guest guest]

For My Beloved

 

When Love first falls into the universe

it falls into earth,

and there is fire and ice.

The wheel of time and space begins to turn.

It is behovely

that there be dauncing and singing.

 

The serene nocturne of the night,

crystal blue, red & yellow diamonds whirl amidst emptiness,

Mother moon, red haloed orb, flirts with shapeless silver clouds flying.

The agitated scherzo of the day,

Father sun, fiery arrowed orb, pierces the clouds and mother with life.

To the blissful singing of birds, the sorrowful dropping of rain,

to this mankind arises from dirt and begins her return journey homeward.

She will look for Love everywhere

and call it many names.

She will find a piece of it in the earth

and calling it the Goddess worship it as the Mother.

But the mother will betray her for the mother both loves and rejects the son

and holds to the father and lover.

She will find a piece of it in the sky

and calling it God will worship it as Father and Savior.

But he too will prove unworthy of her because the father is both angry

and compassionate and will cleave to the mother and lover.

Looking again at mother moon,

he will discover the Goddess that is within his own mind

and step out of dream into the delusions of consciousness.

Peering a second time directly at father sun,

he will go blind and discover the Godhead within the darkness of his soul.

He will reach out for the first time consciously

in search of the Other and take to himself as a mate herself.

This shadow of love will conceive and bear its first fruits with another shadow.

Love in the name of love will make incestuous war on itself.

Creation and humanity will start the slow, deliberate process of devouring itself.

Because our love is a shadow, or if you prefer a dream,

because our love is and is not Love,

like all false gods before, his lover will betray him,

or rather, mankind will betray herself once again.

For the lover brings both the promise of ecstasy in union

and the beloved’s infidelity to the promise it is unable to keep to itself.

So much for words and symbols, idols with clay feet that crack and break,

when I ask my foolish heart to sing of Love, of the yearning,

of the return journey to that which came first, is now and always will be,

even to the last, which is Love.

 

There is One.

The one breaks into two.

The two make three so that the two can heal once again

and return together to the Other which is Love.

There is the Trinity that is The Father, The Mother and The Son.

But really there is only the One that is the Godhead.

There is only the this which is that. There is only I which is Thou.

There is the dream of many. There is reality and its shadow.

There is only the Lover and the Beloved who are One in each Other.

The reality is that I am you, you are mine and we are each other.

For there is no other. There is no self. Without the Beloved there is no Lover.

There is only you interbeing in me. And I interbeing in you.

We are One. We are already the Christ. He is already here among us.

We were, are and will always be not one but two, not two but One.

But we remain asleep and refuse to awake.

So we continue to hurt the each other which is ourselves.

 

But Now is the Kingdom of Heaven.

We are the Buddha on the road.

We can transcend love and suffering with Love.

 

When Love finally leaps out of the universe

it will drift into Emptiness,

where there is neither fire nor ice.

The wheel of time and space will slowly stop spinning.

It is behovely

that there be neither dauncing nor singing.

For all of us will take our last steps and sing our final notes in the closing cadence.

The harmony will resolve back once again into seamless, transcendent silence.

The silence that comes as the Self remembers first and only true Love.

 

Thank you for being my friend and helping me remember this my Beloved.

Thank you for teaching me how to laugh and cry.

I live in hope that we will be there at the end to finish the dauncing and singing together.

 

Mark Christopher Valentine