Missing

Have you seen this dream?

It was very brief
   and boisterous
   and bright

a single red balloon
I sent to the stars last night.

Concentrate On Quiet

A sweet smile
for her laugh, too loud.

I pursed my lips
and hushed her,
the way I would an infant:
tenderly and without disdain.

She blushed and apologized
and looked to the front
where the professor

danced back and forth
before each of us
ignorant pupils.

Come What May

The clutter I've accumulated:
thousands of books, stacked
into neat piles that reach the ceiling -
I crave the knowledge folded delicately
between each page.

But what use is knowledge
when I have no strength to act upon it?

Come what may,
I must rouse myself.

Come what may,
I must revive my slow-beating heart
which even now
wears the mask of untimely sleep.

Sahasrara

Eternal.
I have surpassed myself
and rest easy, filled up
with stardust and fertile soil.
I am the nesting ground
for the raven and the dove,

I am the throne of the greatest power
and the greatest humility.

Come watch the blooming lotus,
tranquil and unmoving
on the mirrored sky.

Come join yourself with me
and let your roots carry deep
within my womb,
that you may see the World and

remain untouched by death.

Source: www.redbubble.com/people/goldenisis

Ajna

Deep in that feral place
where from river-washed stones
spring wild green toads
and fallen logs hide lazy crocodiles
that sleep by the water's edge,
we might find ourselves
illuminated by the sunbeams
that tumble through the shady treetops
and brighten the ground beneath us;
a golden daydream.

Follow me there, a brilliant star
that reveals the hidden way.
Eyes open and filled up with the world's color;
I will be your sight
that welcomes truth and illusion alike.

Source: www.viyett.com.au/yoga-articles.html

Vishuddha

Before the light of day appears
to cast away night's shadow,
clear voices of songbirds come
filled with hope and filled with sorrow

but fearful? not these courageous tones
which ring with all their might, of
the truth that lay in the rising sun,
the joy which gives them flight

and remember now, that I am here:
the howling wind
the quiet tumble of water over rock
the crackle of your flame,

the irrepressible voice
which causes mountains to crumble
and the immovable heart
to shake.

Source: www.trulyorganicfoods.com/blog/tag/healing-with-energy

Anahata

Breathe in deeply as my
howling gales surround you,
the chorus which remembers
every slight, every triumph.

Now,

Listen to the cacophony in your breast.
I am there, the joyous uproar
which has captured you,
a throne upon which
your soul rests eternal.

I am the citadel of your freedom
and the bearer of your guilt, the weight
in your chest.

Source: zeitgeistmusings.wordpress.com/

Manipura

Don't test me.

I've got a fire inside me,
one that even your icy demeanor
cannot extinguish.

It is true what you've heard,
I am a bright flash of light
and an insatiable spring of life.
Give me your hunger,
Give me your desires,

and I will be your strength.

Source: mindnutquest.wordpress.com/2012/07/05/jung-on-kundalini-manipura-anahata

Swadhisthana

The endless toil,
the ebb and flow
that erodes away obstruction;
I am that patient bitterness,
the trickling stream which carves canyons.

Hold me in your tender warmth,
and be gentle with my heart
for I am the ever-changing tide,
your muse, your solitude.

Source: www.yogaturk.com/yoga/chakralar

Muladhara

 I see only me.
The wind that sings
so sweetly between each blade
of grass;
the melody does not touch me.

I am the raw diamond,
your hunger,
the dark soil beneath your feet.

source: www.yogawithtanja.com/first-chakra-muladhara

Chocolate Veil

Source: http://www.flickr.com/people/caryndrexl/

The wishes I sent to the reddened moon,
sealed in parchment and wax,
were filled with sighs and longing -
I hope you'll see them soon.

Recorded in the darkest ink -
the raven's wing it rivals -
a simple, desperate request;
written here, as follows:

let this chocolate veil
which I wear without cessation,
that once before was my distress
now be my liberation.

Moon Picnic

The Madonna and Child

Mother woke me late one night
and told me to step outside.
Above my head, a silver crescent
casting off thick streams of moonlight.

She pulled from behind the house,
a small boat and a little oar;
inside was tucked a woven basket
filled with food she'd prepared before.

I climbed inside the wooden boat
as she pointed us toward the sky,
and we set sail for the twinkling stars
on a river of glowing light.

Mother grabbed the little oar,
splashed it in the glowing stream,
and toward the sharp-edged moon we flew,
to Her meteor-speckled shore -
and we stepped down on the moon,
with basket and blanket in hand,
and laid us down a little feast
upon the silver sand.

Mother made hot cocoa
and cookies and tea cakes,
topped with the heart-shaped designs
and red candies that she often makes.
She pointed out to me,
our home far down below
and told me her well kept secret,
of the magic, hidden window.
As I munched upon the sweets
and sipped my chocolate drink,
Mother turned to me, catching starlight
in her eyes, and whispered:

"When you are feeling down, my dear,
when the world seems dim and grey,
go through that crystal window
and you'll return to this holy place.
Then look above the cloudy skies
which below seem so forlorn,
and see the Earth's true beauty,
the paradise where you were born."

A Necessary Evil

In the quiet of an overcast afternoon,
when we are together and watching
the sky pass through us,
thrums a kind of roar from above

that casts itself upon my skin
and awakens something in you.

In your eyes, there, in your eyes,
where your lips are upon my throat
and we are tumbling together, blindly,
down this grassy hill,
I am tossed aside by my own inhibitions

and left vulnerable and awake
in your tired arms.

The thunder above us
that threatens the rhythm of our hearts
and calls us to wrap around eachother
and make an altar of my womb

is a necessary evil, that
even in its threat of annihilation,
pushes us ever closer to
re-creation.