April 16, (late night) 2013

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I have to admit, I feel strangely shook up. My mind is somewhere between blank and racing. I am very aware of all I could be doing:

Where is that post on the Venus Transit, for all the lonesome lovers?
Where is the post on the up coming eclipse?

The vibe is like an international call with a poor connection,
a few seconds of delay and some static, it’s almost boring,
but the call itself is important, and we want the news!
Once we know, will it be a full blown rush in a million and one directions?
Or is there time yet to think?
It’s a ‘hurry up and wait,’ and a ‘what will happen next?’

All around me, people are growing rapidly,
like those tiny toy pills you put in water,
and they suddenly become large-ish foam godzillas or starfish.
You remember, they were kind of slimy… That’s us!
Growing fast, and we can’t even see it.
It’s easy to talk about adjusting to change…is this how it feels?

~You’re searching, Joe, for things that don’t exist; I mean beginnings. Ends and beginnings – there are no such things. There are only middles.
~
Robert Frost

In astrology that is more true than anywhere,
you can look back, infinitely back…
to see when a cycle started, it started…
Well, they say in the beginning, that there was a bang.

You can look ahead, with eyes half closed, and dreaming,
seeing the shapes turn in to events.
The players, and the stage… but there is no art until we live it.

The whole life thing is an improv, that much we know for certain.
But doesn’t it feel, at times, as though you were supposed to stand exactly
~there~

Here are the lines:
-I’m never going into that house again-

But who is supposed to say them? The girl to her lover?
The mother to her best friend? It’s a girl, we know this because the moon is…
wait are you listening?
From another corner of the sky a door is being slammed!
Oh that is her son, but he was just thinking it…
it’s not for another three months, when Mars passes by that he really slams the door.

It’s a Buddhist idea that we are verbs and not nouns.
We act, even our perception is an action.
The mystery requires that we lose ourselves in action,
any action will do.
Breathing, kissing, walking, pruning a rose
getting your nails did,
You are there.
We know this.
Paradoxically, it’s when we are lost in the action that we feel most alive.

As if we could EVER feel otherwise!

Oh life: that indescribable face!
We witness the face of life as communion,
and speak of it in a language with so few applicable words,

-I can’t describe what I want to say-

comes closest, but I do want to try.

Love YOU!!!

XoX

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