somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyondany experience, your eyes have their silence:in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing(i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens; only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)nobody, not even the rain, has such small handsPoetry... always trying to describe the unknowable.This gorgeous poem so quietly, yet so richly illustratesthe quality of the felt experience of the most powerfulemotion and state of being one could have thefortune to be in - LOVE.In first in reading this poem, I thought it was aboutthe communion of a couple, the intimate, most minutemoments of the awakening to the shared experienceof love.Then, I read it again and again. It began todawn on me that I was reading somethingRumi would have written...Rumi reincarnated as e.e. cummings?!!Could this be a poem about one's connection on the mostsubtle level with the Highest Within and not just about humansexual intimacy?! I wonder...A relationship so brilliant, yet so under the surface of things,that in order to meet it at its level, we must get into the smallestand deepest part of ourselves to be able to feel some shadeof its Light. Maybe our human intimate communion, beautifuland grand as it is, is just the microcosm of a more omnipotentconnection, as macro. Maybe this is what was beingverbalized so descriptively by e.e. cummings?Kind of like Van Gogh, striving with the materials available atthe time, to reinterpret what he saw: a wheat field or a starrynight, yet, because, in the end: mere pigments, or in the poet'scase, mere words go only so far in reaching the true texture,luminosity, breathability of being in and with The Creator.I have been fortunate in my life to have had a few of thesemost holy of experiences - the men shall remain nameless,but my deep gratitude to what was born out of our organictendernesses, the beautiful shared memories we createdtogether will always, always be treasured.However, these experiences are often fleeting,and like sand, will simply slip through your fingers - yourawareness must always be at the ready, your inner videocamera defaulted to "on"!So, the question is:Who has served with you in your attainment of the richness oflove?What was a shared experience you've had with another that hasbrought you to your knees exclaiming, as Blanche did inStreetcar Named Desire, "There is a God!"?Or how different was the world around you,after a profound shift was created out of acoming together?Did your map change: were the colors more brilliant, peoplenicer, did you find yourself walking on clouds?How has moving deeper into our evolving and quantum naturetransformed your every-day surface-life experiences?
Tell me your story~