I’m not afraid of running out of love. The more love I give, the more love I have to give.~Rob Brezsny, World Kiss
I bless you precious basketball
bobbing along the iced edge
of the bay: forlorn, forgotten
by the children who missed
the hoop and changed the game
to this cold and lonely lake
tour. Here where the springs
bubble up in the hole hewn
by the highway contractors,
here is beauty. Breathtaking,
heart-opening basketball, faded
into a mustard yellow with a frost
cap, observing with a detective’s
stealth. Alive in the living waters,
as I am. Fractals of the complex
humming earth, creatures forged
from stardust and sound, light,
energy. I release the separation
that declares my sentience supreme:
what I have is yours and yours
is mine. Vibrations of love,
we presence one another,
tuning in and reflecting
disturbances in the field,
so easily corrected when we
are intent on kissing our wounds.
Bringing them like sobbing children
to our mother. Nurturing each
other, every one of us called
thing or it or jack—even
this flickering sentient screen bestowing
this message, records your metadata
expressions as you read
these words. All of us alive
and brimming with it. I’ve thrown
off the separation, I’ve missed
the target, spinning, throwing
blessings to every thing that matters.
We. Us. And what comes before
the word the intention
the transmission deep
abiding love, the blank page
on which we write in our
feverish dreaming. Kissing
cousins. Nothing is
as it seems.
Inspired by: Jack, Detective, Hewn and Precious.
Photo taken after a long climb in Oahu when I felt overwhelming love for all of creation. May it transmit that same all-encompassing love to you.
Listen to it on soundcloud here.
And here is Rob Brezsny’s 8-minute celebration of love, World Kiss, that arrived in my inbox right before writing time.