Green Love.

[Guest guest]

Green Love

 

Sun dancing, my feet pad on cool kitchen tiles. The sleepy

commotion of the first clattering tea ceremony. The

paddling wake up whispers, and shuffles of my soul getting

used to this form and space again.

 

I take a moment and coddle it into presence. Drawing upon

an invisible pipe of peace that has been drawing upon me all

the swaddled sway of this life hugging night.

Breathing in, I remind myself of new clay pots drying in the

sun, damp red, earthen aware, and seeking the shape I am.

 

Then that life giving, heart stopping interlude of nothing,

that drowning in the souls eye, and blinking back. That

moment of no breath-being.

And then the outbreath, unforced and unremarkable. Just

switching the current of the universe back to ‘go’ mode.

Just leaving the sweat lodge of self, to share the world with

a child of infinite wonder.

 

In my garden now, sucking damp air and warm flare of

morning.

Feet flapping contentment, in flip flop finding of my garden

soul. It is a real garden, yet it is still my soul digging, ‘here

and now’ hunting ground. Sacred site of my right to be just

right.

First, the roots need greeting, the love kisses are born there.

Then the spine aching rise of lusting Gods, ascending the

sap of this growing stretch of my imagining. And yes the

flowers are feeding. They are opening like happy children to

whispered naughty jokes. All a giggle and nervous

unknowing.

 

Ah, I am okay. I am this day melding into me, as the milk

arriving songs of becoming, this white calving of

consciousness, and ground of ritual, I call ‘self disclosure.’

I become the day and tinker with a new name to be known

by.

Every dawning must have it fresh call sign. A gift of inner

meanings for my native simplicity, my way tracking in this

world, and wagging hay ride of time. Trailed and stealthy

hunt of my secret appearance.

 

I gather the pollen of my soul and blow upon it. Sun motes

dancing into fingers, fashioning a word image to wear like a

feather bonnet of reality upon the heart. ‘Isa-dawn’

appears. Yes, that is my spirit emblem for the gifting of God

to loves appearance this day. Isa-dawn.

New laid lawn of Jesus springing up green as grass and

laughing as I sit swinging my legs from the tree of this, my

life, and loving the smell of my arms about its bough and

branch. Green love in the worlds greening and dawn of just

myself arriving.

 

 

love

 

eric

 

 

 

Copyright 2002. Eric Ashford.