Moonflower, for you my dream, I cry.

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How many dreams will I have. Night after night. In the same bed, pretending it’s me. In another house, a stranger’s land. Cold sheets, stars hidden by a ceiling. There is nothing but the sound of me. A rage of trees blown by ancient winds. Inside the room made of boxes I pray, then forget the words that lead out. Out of this dream, time has passed. There is a storm that shakes this valley. There is a curse that falls as needed rain. There is a sky of pink with silver clouds. I’ve only dreamed I could get inside. Where I could live with myself like I was the angel star. But here I am, imagining again that my words might lead me out of this sleep. That a new dream might pull God into the light. Awaken, she is filled with bones. The glow of immortal skin, what I look for in his eyes. The doorway into another deep dream. Communion, the star is in the other. The stillness when I know I’ve been sleeping, the eery solace in our gray embrace. White dream, I see the light enter me. This long hallway where we move up and down, grasping at images that might help us feel, ourselves inside this dark heavy dream of earth power. As I lay, I embody another landscape in someone else’s house, he touches me like he’s been here before. In the secret garden of my passing love. The way flowers cannot stay, but another will come. A new color, a different dream. She smells different but equally as beautiful. And that hurts me, that I am not the only flower in my dream. That I am not his only dream. That I myself am a dream. That this is not my bed or body. That I don’t have a house with a glass ceiling. That my star is still unnamed. But I love her, wherever she is. I go. Into this deathless space of an unreachable yearning I echo my own tears, back at the treacherous rain. Back into his burning heart. Back into the eyes we all have together. Can I show you my face. I cannot. It is in a secret garden, in my sleep, I have nothing else. I have nowhere else to hold my soul as precious, more precious than any other beautiful body. I must be the only one hurting while the flowers grow. This is where the name Moonflower comes from. Not every heart needs sunlight to grow. My love grows under moons, many pain filled nights of moon. I found myself under sheets of searching wind, roaming everywhere looking for you in the dark. Knowing only I would be there. Knowing I could never truly be without you. And in this darkness something bloomed. A torrent of invisible love blossomed just so I could survive, go on turning myself around the other light that only knew me as it’s shadow. I can know this pain of not ever being real to you and I can dream you anyway inside my heart, into my flower. Because my words are simple, is because I have none left.

Moonflower, for you my dream, I cry. Sharada Devi   

10 thoughts on “Moonflower, for you my dream, I cry.”

  1. Crying for your own heart
    Beautiful
    Pain
    Love that is alone.
    Somehow, our own
    Creation
    Happening away.
    I love you moonflower,
    As your still wind makes me real🌌
    Sparkling snowflake that only melts when I return to the light of the world.
    But our hearts remember the cold love that melts the damned day.

    1. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=3tR5A0gjT-0

      For how long do we tangle the cold with the heat. When will her flower be dead to you.
      Are you as real as you think. Love could be a vapor. A mist that arises then slowly fades like every rainbow. Do you know, because I don’t- what we wrap in sorrow to protect kittens from the cold.

      becoming the moonflower…because we all are. Finally hung on walls as the ancient ones who gave their all and went to stars that no one ever found. Are we there now. maybe and that’s what I mean by tears.

      Searching for the lost one hidden inside my dark galaxy…star flower, moonlit angel.
      God as the other.

      1. Exactly.
        Who’s asking
        Oblivion, as if she needed me.
        I don’t need to bow
        To the universal steam-
        roller…

      2. That’s beautiful. The lost one as a heart un-blossomed in me..
        Giving it all is all
        that it takes. Keep asking,
        For my true one
        being. That is all 🌹

      3. The one who
        breaks apart veraciously because it cares.
        Beams won’t hold his house without it. And it doesn’t need them to win. Your life
        Taken beyond me

  2. Mmm blessings To be collector of seeds mmm We watch the stalks reach. We reach. We are tugged. Pushed and preyed upon. The bottom leaves they drop. Just the top stronger ones are needed. No flowers just yet. Flowers in the other bed. I am not impatient for the impatiens to bloom. Heck I walked a few football fields in the heat of summer before the seeds were shared from a beautiful stranger’s sweaty hands and warm heart to mine. I am thirsty. Flower holder; you see me. I see you. Mm guru blood moon~ ah hell is this the time of bloody mother love. I have prayed to a sheltering shrieking fire mother because the flesh and blood is disturbed by my breath. I cultivate it. Oh bandhas oh hold tight om in om out ah hell set me right Sattva sattva sattva you exist right? It is such a steady pull back & forth. Side to side. Picking the petals off: love me~hate me ~ i love my self~ i know my Self~ i am estranged ~i have fallen~ i have risen~Mother: open wide! I stick my tongue out. I release the illusion of control of these harsh metal cages ahh hell riding a tiger riding a lion gopi medicine healing fire sweeping it’s manas it’s breathe wavering steady steady gaze ok I will stay here now mm in this place so many gates gates star gate to all my relations Sharada you’re beautiful. Naked heart Truths. I love the fierce warrior surya & the Only way out is thru muck mud I can still walk in waist-high mud. I have; it’s dirty, but it’s got to be easier than quick-sand. In it you’d be swallowed whole moon Om When I get to new moon with havan I will think of you with petals that have already fallen from blooms. Om Truth Om roots Om fruit Om

    1. Thank you goddess of the dawn.
      Rose gold, turning star.
      Underneath a seed
      lies the resting darkness
      earth never leaves,
      where we grow.
      Where I find you,
      hidden in the midnight
      as blue as black
      can ever know…

      she rises with a newborn flower.

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