To you who are known by so many names across space and time, it is with the fervent devotion of a burst-open heart and the awe-struck reverence of the enraptured that I write in homage at this inky, indrawn moment of the winter solstice.
Only once in an eternity does God launch this kind of heart-rocket. How could I turn away? I suddenly felt compassion for my friend, struggling as he was to find his faith in love after such a tremendous loss.
Woundmates are not to be confused with soulmates, which can also trigger shadowy material to the surface of consciousness, but are sourced in a more promising and fertile wellspring, one that fosters real growth and progress.
We all want to be led by the voice of wisdom that lives in our bones, we all desire to engage with life using the gift of keen intuition to connect us with realities that go deeper than what the naked eye can see.
May you claim your own soulfully softened identity, and may you demand to be called by the names you have given yourself. Tell the world who you are, and those who are worthy of your company will believe you.
Without any effort at containment, I hurtled over the back-jacks and pounced on top of her. In a soulbeat, we were undressed and writhing madly on the temple floor. The Buddha was aghast, as we attached, desired and clung our way to God.