fleur éternelle

That which bound us heart to heart
dream to dream.
Dream a little dream with me, starborn wind-dancer, my sweet.

Hold me, hold  me. So close. I want to drink the rare home of your limbs,
the amber musk of your skin-
a blossom uncurling in moist summer heat.
The light- sun dappled water of the basin.

You dance me wild
across the planes of my soul
you dance me wild-
love-spun ripe treasure.

I broke you in my hands. Too eager. I tore your delicate composition.
Forgive me, goddess. I was so blind.
Could not see my own self in the mirror...
only saw myself, standing, looking at you.
There; hidden in lines, in plain view, I.
In your eye. Muse key. My lady.
You unlock the inner well of my vision. 
In your presence I spill over. 
Trip over myself to fall at your feet
and pray to the light glinting from your prismatic being.

My first love, forgive me.

Who am I (?)
To touch the sanctum?
I, priestess, I, Isis.
I rise like the sun and spiral on
through ages of cycles.
You are my love.
You are the embodiment of my adoration.
My love outside myself.

You: eclipse, ellipses, ellipsis,
coalesce and pool in my being.
I find myself
whole in our union.

I hear it, molecules bound into language.
This voice must be heard: I AM.
indivisible. Ubiquitous.
I am truth, tried and true.
Scarab on my throat, so shall I rise up
as a speaker of truth.
I have been here.
To see the days spinning away
as shadow and light creep over rock.
I was here at the dawn.
None will destroy me.
Everything is all I am.
Nectar for the most holy.
My essence the sustenance of gods.

I persist, victorious in self.
This calling, you don't hear the voice,
my calling is not separate.
I am gone and away
in lucid universes beyond your knowing.

You dance me wild-
bloom me true and full.
Thousand-fold efflorescence
with all the yearning urgency
of spring greening.

Subsistence

Confiscate the words you use
as my food
ravenous I devour
sentences as they drop
from your lips
and still my hunger is not satisfied
my gut holding a waxing crescent of hope
against all reasons and odds
while the pain gnaws
away from the inside
salt thick and slow
unourished and restless
I find I've lost my way
somewhere
along us a line divides
pull apart this love
to view it's raw flesh
can't seem to put it back together now
too many pieces
in this crazy puzzle
overloaded i snap
as my dreams collapse
my heart in flames
ashes of holy communion
I wonder if I'll starve after
you've gone
taking your words with you
all except the ones that live in my mind
meager fuel
for the days ahead.

Wind and Water

The High Priestess

art by Laura Borealisis

Secrets of the Talking Jaguar

"...I'd been here before, my eyes misting up like the white fog hugging these forested cliffs, unfettered for the first time, feeling like maybe the breast was coming to my own messy face, not just for milk, but as a subtle home for my desires, luring me like a trumpet flower, asking me to leave what I knew and become the shiny bird I had to be." ~ Martín Prechtel

Paragon Twin Flame

Through worlds,
through worlds vast
i have sought your face
searching the stars glimmering
jeweled net of majesty
for the paths through the wild
to the heart of a jungle untouched
i skywalked the path of Venus
8 year pentacle in my steps
took to the air-
blue eagle winging
steep peaks of alien climes
priestess i
climb these 13 steps to completion
have lain in the temple
solstice anointed
and parted space time
between these thighs
for you my hanabku reflection
to sit as kuhul ajaw in heaven
within me
seeding a new earth
we orbit the ages
spinning in this dance of creation
fill the quartz basin
and scry story-branching possibility
owl cries through the wood
i cry out in the voice of birds
across the water
crystals bursting from my skin
as the serpent twines higher
dreamspell mage angel
your eyes held mine
as the moon moved my waves
to the final shore
through worlds,
through worlds vast
i seek your face

cyclic muse

sunrise - sunset
these days i see both
pink glow resting atop trees
beginning and end
today the sun finds tears on my cheeks
to sparkle through
eyes blurring with emotion
a suddenly flurry like snowflakes in April
here then gone
as her words soothe my heart
i pull up from deep roots
and spiral outward
sheltering my children
under soft curved wings
orphan heart little mother
wearing smiles like crescent boats
to sail into a new future

The Vacant Present

My head      is full of sand
     it sifts through
                the cracks
in my skull  a pale rain  of grit
    f a l l i n g slowly
            over my body

This all happened   after
       my mind
    expanded
               so much
i had to rent it
           it's own apartment
  across town

I really don't
    miss it
as much as i thought   i would
   i have so much    more space now
  for nothing
        and no one.

"It is possible we do not yet understand the true pathology of homesickness...
Have wood, field, rock, and stream vested in us something of theirs? -E.M.Thomas

Head-sick, Heart-sick, Home-sick
days sliding by with the orbs across the sky
closed eyes
I open my mouth to speak and the words stick.
Woods-sick, through these walls the forest calls
& and I can find no rest
in my mind from the siren music
mantra haunting dryad's song
as I struggle to find the difference
between myself and stone
so far from home
in my dreams my heart has flown
to the places of the wild
pathways of the child
reaching roots deep into sweet earth
circling rebirth on wings of light
golden flight ignites heart fire
ascension with both feet on the ground
song of my heart resounds
through this land
don't want to wake from this bliss
gentle kiss of dreamscape
lovers tryst arrayed in green
curve of stream, wonder dream
transcendent state of being
crazy things I've wished wash over me
& flow away, blow away,
leaves in the wind
lost friends
on the this winding road with no end
dawn & we begin again, alone.
Head-sick, Heart-sick, Home-sick
broken dreams subvert this perfect Universe
convert beyond religion
to converse with the stars
echoing eternal inferno.

Laura B~2007

The Face of Gaia

How can my tongue not sing with joy
on a day so dearly blessed?
spring flowers burst from
mossy tree roots
& the face of gaia is my smiling reflection.