Passion is the bridge that leads from the smaller truth,

that suffering is needed for healing, towards the larger richer experience of life as the lovemaking in all things. All things.

Even the accounting, charting, and explaining,

even when it does not seem practical or make sense.

I raised the serpents in the night and it was a flood

of karmic unwinding, sickness, and compressed red death,

difficult to keep my focus on the love, the light and the pleasure.

Shiva, dark blue of the night, bless your beauty and your vow,

your sleek muscularity and potent trident, we draw the shapes and thickness up and through. I ride upon you as the red dakini.

The flow of the waterfall of my shakti has the power to focus your energy in my mind, Silence and song, stillness and dance

then such a need for evacuation, my buffalo angels,

your compassionate hooves to trample, to shatter suffering structures,

my black jaguar lover, my red spotted jaguar sister, to gobble up large chunks of raw flesh. star people, your dark hands weeding my garden. heaving sobs from my innards, my core. Sometimes it does not seem

as though my shadow material is diminishing or nearing completion,

I pray for more encouragement, to keep moving forward and cultivating myself as Queen in union with my King, Goddess as one with my God. Wayshower of the path of manifestation through passion, compassion,

safe and true. Which means I feel myself from head to toe,

the succulence of sexual desire for my secret lover blossoms,

it destroys me, Angels of mercy. I can feel the beloved waiting,

Pulsing me, pressing close and it feels unbearable, this love, this bliss.

I offer up the one who cannot bear it.