casting stars from her heart

From the depths of my soul I love you. On the surface, the words change. Evil is born from bandaged wounds. The silent blue sea, still and eternal is bodiless and never sees the difference between us. Healing, mending, ripping. I’ve tried it all to no avail. As love is meant to wound the wound, I limp toward God, the destroyer of my shore. Crying I go as my ground disappears. Under water, inside God, the killer. I meant for you to know we were separate and I love you. Blur, this world as I die into nothing but a feeling of sea. The God of my dreams has opened my eyes. To you, little one that I know. When I was cold, death warmed me. When I was alone, death covered me. When I was without you, death came as a bird singing your praise. My teardrop has made you, God who pretends. To leave and to take, to hurt and to mimic. I look upon the thoughts of me, this tumbling blur beneath merciless waters and I feel from my soul who has brought me here, to die. This sacrifice God makes, this murder on God’s hands. This deep eye killing merge, I don’t know where I am. Inside the world of bodies and feet, outside the world of arms and smiles, I don’t know who draws the lines between shore and sea, between sky and you, between death and love. God, I am burning, just a star in your eye. God, I am fire, just a word from your mouth. God, I am gone, just a tear in your ocean. Look beneath me, divine one to find where we’ve gone. You were little and I was big. So little you slipped through my fingers. So big, I caught you on this earth. In this body of holy light. We swim, we fly, we forget, we remember. The blood and the flesh are made of sea. The thoughts and the feelings are made of sky. You and me are made of each other. And we dreamed God because we knew we could. And God came as all bright dreams do, lucid and exacting. This light on the sea. This love under water. This terrible one who breaks all our knees. To look down, to fall. To find the earth she bore from pain. I cry, crawling upon her, begging for food and for freedom. You were there, falling from trees feeding yourself to the children. I was waiting, as I always do, for the rest of the dream to awaken…as there could be many of us down here, casting stars from her heart. Sharada Devi

6 thoughts on “casting stars from her heart”

  1. I keep thinking of the star-filled sky. Thought to myself:
    “Now I know how it was made”. Cast from your heart, love made.
    Made me rise from the dead, whatever way you want to look at it.
    It is made because love made the maker make.
    And that is the tear.
    It doesn’t need a reason, it just drops.
    That is me. I drop.
    What else is there to say. About your heart.
     
    Gave me life and I came back. Released and didn’t know it. -I pull you back. I don’t know why. Like a reverse tear? Yes because I’m make believe too. A god too stupid and young. To see far. To let you go.

    The rest is swirl of color. Except you; making shape so clear, it is too much of a bridge to be different. Goodbye pain.. My god

  2. ✨ A nova, a brilliant flaring burst 💥. A thirst for an echo-y response to fill the blur between. Little shooting stars exploding fast and aiming far. 💫 Marks reached, hearts that speak. Sparks igniting. Late arriving lightening⚡️. An affirmation of watery references to another day’s remarks or just a seeking that feeds the eyes upon first read. Perhaps the pealing silver bell is not meant for me. or is it? That would be exquisite. To shine is divine. 🌟 With god in the dream, a lone reed need not be seen. If evil comes from that which is suppressed, what comes from the wound that lies open.
    🦋
    – A radiant blessing in the late night desert air beneath the halo of the Milky Way.
    You, pale and glowing, pure, lily white,
    beckoning towards an invisible opening in space and time
    to something more mystical, more magical, more sublime than ever imagined.
    An unspoken invitation pointing the way to a journey deeper into the ether –
    🦋
    Love lives. God gives.
    Without the reach for the miraculous, breath becomes meaningless.

    1. “without the reach for the miraculous, breath becomes meaningless” Radhe, I love that….I FEEL that! Deeply!
      May we all breathe each breath in each moment with meaning. Never taking the breath for granted. May we all continue to reach deep within…to discover that miraculous light within us. Om Mani Padme Hum!

  3. to not be understood will be my minor victory
    a say hey jai…
    the reach is outward
    forward, not a hidden inside clutch
    the stretch to be more, beyond, not merely just enough
    the lack of breath is ultimately death.
    therein lies the meaningless.
    what i say is not what you mean, finding more would be a smoke screen.
    feel what you will
    it matters little, i in god am already gone
    only the extremities carry on
    intention is not subject to interpretation.
    to know more comes with the territory of temporary linger
    remember strings dangled on forgetful fingers
    not so subtle as a deep reach within
    harmony and pitch. dulcet tones, dissonant vibration is the awaken
    inner ear clear channel freedom for the taking
    taking the step outside this all
    the tree that places when the hungry one falls
    farther away is the that that calls
    contrarian until the very end.
    a too long sojourn, a sentence that suspends
    eternity will be my feather bed
    let there please be no more said

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