To my beloved:

 

The Wind of seasons,

And the season of winds carry

Whispers between

 

The leaves shake with titillation.

 

I see the Sufis, and They-see

How Mother Nature’s curves

Are made of both

Light and dark essences,

Surrounding a

Punctuated Center.

 

The experience of watching them swirl and

Transform,

so fast it can be dizzying

And delighting all at once,

But, no matter.

 

The center is the point of

All things.Whose origin is seamless.

So vast that wind cannot penetrate it.

 

The beloveds are at home

Saturated in the

Nectar of primordial Authenticity.

Enveloped as the whisper of whispers,

The entirety of near-silence,

The edge of All Beginnings.

 

Ka Malana, ©2014

Music in space: Nurai Lita, Kafez, Buddha Chillout Lounge