By Star McGill
I want to go back to the Ocean,
sit on the beach
in cross-legged reverence.
I remember feelings of awe in church.
I painted scenes about it,
of souls rising from human forms in church pew rows,
Each form was a vibrant blue
edged in yellow,
increasing in brightness
until turning into streaks that
reached toward Heaven.
But the Ocean,
it was Her blue I painted,
not fabricated emotions
of comfort driven myths.
I painted Her without realizing.
Her crashing,
moon-tide driven truths
hold more power and honesty
than any church service.
Her salty water
rocked me in the womb,
to the beginning of my creation
She returns me.
I am hundreds of miles away
but I hear Her
calling me back to Her edge.
She is renewal.
Even the sand strips the old
away from my feet
as She forms my new skin.
I am in deep evolution,
so far down its path
that I am scattered.
I must return to my origin,
be birthed from Her waters again.
She will press all my fragments into whole.
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Essential Rumi, New Expanded Edition.
Loving this, and me, too! XOXO
Thank you! I am deeply honored to be here.
That’s the best answer by far! Thanks for cobtirnuting.
"He should have faced a trial"Hear, hear.I'm really tired of the results of death being more death. BREAK the damn cycle of violence! (As we say of Obama re SSM) EVOLVE ALREADY! ["three fingers pointing back at me"]