Crossing Dharma~

It was Ak Ana

dressed

in white ascendance

who descended

red beryl emeralds wound through her moonlight hair

a bleedwood box tucked into her sash of crystal satellites

orbiting her transparent waist

she gave crescent smile in silver

and I, delighted by the joke,

gentled

whispered

“You are crossing geographical mythologies.”

to which

she shrugged a star from her shoulders

“It’s been a slow eon, open to play.”

she winked

the box extended

her arm a ash bow

insisting . . . .

“Take it, huntress, I am going back to Kara Khan to live on the plains as a human girl.  Your turn to eat dharma, your turn to feed the dreaming snake.”

she turned to smoke through mud

emerged on the other side of happenstance

coupled with a dark man in vestments of love

she stitched the in~between places closed

with deft fingertips

spilling silver thread

leaving me to shiver

the wood between my palms

breathing

‘open me’

 

Folded in lotus

I smoothed the pale blue of my robe

unclasped the gold dhamma from metal kaya

my fingertips dew

on the lid

opened

to a sigh escaping

O Vakkali, whoever sees the Dhamma, sees me

inhaled with juniper incense

 

A brooch inlaid with tiny pink shells

crawled from the box into my palm

to burn wisdom like stigmata into my skin

proclaiming me its bride. . . .

 

a faceted screen of diamonds followed

with moments in every cut

feeding my pupils a history of my own making. . . .

 

there was no pause in between

and the now came on soft paws

to press me between the pages of the moment

replete with a thousand choices. . . .

 

a scroll unrolled

ink presentations

inviting

open to interpretation

there would be no decisions made for me

they were mine to own . . . .

 

the leaf insect in vermillion

rubbed his musical hind legs

against my path

his imprint

intimate and identical to the jewel between my eyes. . . .

 

at last there manifested

a sound

a creative movement

a single tone for the ethereal touch. . . .

 

I closed my eyes on cross~stitched mythologies

and embroidered legends

dismembered my own notions

salves for sinews come undone

a smile in memorial divided between a thousand pieces of me

scattered

in feed across traditions manifested in a field of poppies

 

Exhale

open eyes

smiling Buddha before me

“What is impermanent and permanent?”

I open my palms

in lotus blossom skin

emerald eyes in bright dance

answering with a question

“What is neither?”

he winks

he answers

“You.”

 

~I am home . . . .~

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/pa.inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

people delight in the angles and quick designs of your dancing words, and that is well and good, because you certainly put the spice to the curvature of space, but to me, more than anything else, you sing the song of the ages, like the song of solomon and those voices of women from all times who have stepped outside the patterned ways of life, and sang and sang (as aslan knows) the truth of the deep magic

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

You are so adept at touching the untouchable and at scripting in such a beautiful language. It's like a breath of life for the soul.

"she shrugged a star from her shoulders" Just beautiful!

You have the waters of many oceans within you, and I love how the waters wash ashore to cover us with truth and light. With each poem of yours that I read, I am sated.

Linda Marie

[Jibey]

I liked the smooth, magical flow of this writing, with its misty eastern mythology and other-worldliness... The images are pleasing, sensually attractive and dreamy

[Coyote Poetry]

I love how you write. Style of the writers from the 1500-1600. The tale had to be read a few times. Such beautiful words and statements. The complete story was amazing. The characters, the events and the description open my mind to wander into this outstanding story. Thank you.
Coyote

[D.R. Wilsey Jr.]

This is absolutely beautiful. Amazing images and clarity. Beautiful word choice and flow. One of the better pieces I have read on here in a long time. I hope to read more of your work in the near future and I thank you for giving me the chance to read this particular piece.

Hi Selene!

Again a magnificent write! This one truly shows your in depth experiance at writing! Wonderful! You let the reader dance on your words and your finrtips as they read along your elegent style! I really like the ending by the way!

-SaimaS :)

[Pax Analog]

“It’s been a slow eon, open to play.”

"I closed my eyes on cross~stitched mythologies/and embroidered legends/dismembered my own notions/salves for sinews come undone/
a smile in memorial divided between a thousand pieces of me/scattered/
in feed across traditions manifested in a field of poppies"

This bejeweled wonder has a Tibetan Buddhist flavor, which combines the wild magic of Bon shamanism and the taming power of Buddhist adept Padmasambhava.

Ever thus is the scintillant dance between hyperphenomenology and the mysterious Emptiness that is full. Duality and Nonduality. Most lean on the special effects of the former and are baffled by the latter.

You touch, embrace, transcend all that matters, Selene. That is the very essence of Divinity.

[Liza]

your style is so mystical and unique
it is a wonder to read your mind
you're one of a kind!

[luciddreamer]

You do have a way of playing with the Gods and giving them voice and may I had...you do this beautifully :)......
Peace
Robin

[Matthew Kult]

Hello again Selene,

A windows I do tend to leave open but be sure to close on your way out. I would hate for you to release a beast within that was already exploring the home you just entered.

It doesn't matter what touch or what you write it turns into a beautiful story woven by the silk of a spider. Absolutely incredible. I only wish I had that ability, but alas my mind wanders through the empty space between sanity and insanity.


Always,

Matthew

[Dream Weaver]

Buddah, Cali, Ali Khan, Spiritual chants?
only in the east...Jade East lol just joking.
Another wonderful piece Selene....