A growing, shifting, yawning kind of entanglement.
We are spun from music;
from sheaths of sunshine, spiraling, enfolding, uniting,
completing the beginning of time into this eternal wisp of fleeting presence we love.
This we sip and croon for,
we wince and tilt our heads ever so gently in an imperceivable bow for.
We bathe and open, spread our wings wide for.
To feel her. To be her within.
To relish the intimacy
the trust waived aside as an obvious ‘given’.
Adored by this breath, her hand maiden who fills us up to pumping.
Expanding into boundless creativity, not of our own – Oh no! It is not ours to give,
but to share by living, by being, by slipping into this molecule –
the divine slipstream of life
Beckoned, supported, tempted with little sweet meets from her loving –
Surprised by open expectancy,
graced by delight every time we blossom from the sweet budding of timelessness.
No struggle in this tangled web.
No knots to tie.
Hang loose with her,
slip slowly with her story side by side unencumbered by worry or concern,
know she will lead you there when you are full and ripe and ready.
Entangled, enfolded, embraced, enriched
by this and only this