I wanted to write C.C. a love poem and I hesitated. Suspended between wanting to write of love and loving, I resonate with the fear of letting go.
Oh, and a voice inside whispers. If you do that you'll get hurt.
I turn to face the voice but it disappears into the mists of fear.
There I am. Supine suspension on a violin string. Delicately balanced between my wanting to know love and my fear of being known in love.
I let myself
It doesn't take balance to fly.
So flowed my meditation this morning.
A delicate weave of clear mind spaces unravelling into the mists and images of violin strings plucked and vibrating with potential, with meaning, with lore and Love.
I let myself down
into the waters
warm and inviting
calling me deeper
I let myself fall
soft and enveloping
lifting me higher