My Universe, My Bride

My Universe, My Bride

Deep, elusive, dark trembling ecstasy
quivering at the vastness
of her soul
drawn down to bloodied knee
pining, aching, sobbing
to become one

Temptation
oh the temptation 
to curl up like a lost child and
weep the tormenting stillness
to wail and moan voiceless,
pitying the swelling darkness

I pity it not. Here then on bloodied knee
I can draw my gratitude
and rise
and rise
and rise forward

Her voice carries the silhouettes
of shadowed moon
and shattered stars
Her eyes pierce
through the darkest depths
as torches
of eternal myth and feeble truth.

I can but only
press firm against her
as if leaning into abyss

I can but only
be freed in the falling
into her bosom
into the oceans of her heart
into the chasms
of her secret mind

Cold and tremulous
is the wind on falling form
aching and cold
comfortless

I fall into to her
to embrace her
and there is nothing
nothing
but the roar of wind abound

Remote cold untouchable
yet I crave to see more…..
beyond her veil
beyond her veil is her prize

lips of pureness and passion
lips of innocence untouched
sweet lips
the lips
of a bride

I lift the veil
I lift the veil
dream and vision
dream and vision
so I lift the veil.

A thousand moons
a million stars
endless being
breathless becoming
quivering at the vastness
of her soul
Deep, elusive, dark trembling ecstasy
beyond the veil
beyond the veil

lips of pureness and passion
lips of innocence untouched
sweet lips
the lips
of a bride.

I lift the veil
I lift the veil
dream and vision
dream and vision
so I lift the veil.
© Brenda D. Baker

*My poetry is published only here.I ask that if you choose to share my poetry on the internet you always link back to this page, and only do so for personal use.

I know for many artist they pursue a muse, a daemen, something to jump start their creativity. I can not speak for others but when I feel lost from my vision and fire it means I am disconnected somewhere. It means I need more solitude, more silence, more meditation.

For me, all creativity, all art, the love of those things- it all reveals a desire to be one with the universal mind, God, Goddess, and so on. I suppose I see the universe as both mother and bride. As an artist I attempt to stay close and connected and become a vessel of creative force. 

Artistic fire, childbirth, sexuality- they all share the same chakra. A deep chasm where darkness brings forward life or for me- Art. I have felt at odds with my creativity lately trying to control her too much, especially the time table.

It never works out- she always wins, the mother in her knows better when. All the time I beat myself up about the plan, and mope about my expectations. I harbor guilt feeling as if I have not been working. I question, I grieve, and then suddenly I am giving birth.

The new way unfolds. I feel relieved and laugh because somewhere deeper inside I was planning, preparing, and reaffirming my true purpose and vision. When will I learn to let go of all this busyness, and just do as the moment unfolds. 

I understand the importanc of stillnes and silence. The dark cold ground nourishes the seed in spring, it comes to life from darkness. Why do I forget the darkness also means the unkown the mysterious the unrevealed. I plan all my busyness and forget I don’t know. The busyness goes askew and I judge…… myself. 
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