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Guidance to Spill Ink

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You are my Habib, my Love-charm,

like Muhammed was called by Allah.

You, the Tiger's-eye in my pendant Heart.

Shall I call you, then, my Beloved

Habib, my love to end all loveliness?

My leaping across the Nothingness?

Are you my Nothingness plunge,

the Nondual Dip splitting the pond of I?

God! This sounds so crazy, even to this babbler!

 

I see your glowering Hunger-Glance

in the Dance of the starfields, those beggars.

They have the galactic whirling,

the shimmer of blessedness abounding,

but they do not know our dance,

our whirling, our shimmered blessings.

They cannot know, they do not know

this Razzle-Dazzle Accentuation

of your calligraphy, your mark

stroking itself across mine.

We are the high court of Heian,

a real Genji and Shikibu

shaking up the world again.

 

I awakened one morning, Awakened...

and walked out into the Starield of Myself,

and saw nothing but you, everywhere You,

You in every Floral Fountain,

every seedy face. All possible hybridization of Light.

Of Love Colors. Love is Color. Crimson, White,

Golden Blue and Achyuta-Hued Turquoise, go on and on and in.

We breathed Your Colors, we sang Your Mysteries

in all our own petaldom pronouncing perfect wording of We.

So much Joy surrounding, abounding,

we become a sky of bird-flowers, floral-feathers,

flying across the reflection held

in Your Pupiled-Void of All-

Seeing Nothing Everything Nowhere Everywhere, beyond Huuu. O.

 

This love, this life, this longing, is symbolic

sheet music You inscribed in me

when I was cut from Your Reedbed,

and You emptied me out for You,

for Your Breath to begin the music

struck into my being at Your Sigh.

My Sight. Sighing See, See Me. SEE! See?

 

Make me groan for more.

Make me Your Own Moaning.

Sigh away this life...Sigh, from me.

Surround sound, this Love,

somewhere sounds are being made from You and I.

This may be the one time you can hear

my Heartbeat as your very own.

Now.

 

Love,

Mazie

 

 

 

 

_______________

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