Benign Bliss Burn
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Written: October 26, 2025, for contest sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
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“In-form polarities merge in the heart
One that became two becomes one again
Breath by breath, feeling bliss ignition start
God’s grace in-pours as we dance in the rain”
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In the steadfast syllogism's silence,
where the morning light gently fades
I observe myself — indecisive, shaking,
My hunger is reflected in me
I yearn with fervent intensity,
For the deep transmutation of kinship.
The delicate grief of inhalation,
vented by a quiet sigh
As the specters of unease melt into the void.
And vivid clashes remain lucid,
Beneath the weight of tears.
Amorphous yearning takes shape
in the aureate arc of surrender.
This is not a violent conflagration,
no acherontic pyre of passion—
but a seraphic simmer,
an ever-changing susurrus
who sings in the sinews of the heart.
I am ablaze and mortified,
a charming contradiction
of fire and delight,
where the anodyne and the enthusiastic
combines in muted conflagration.
That ancient apiary — the heart —
buzzes with ambrosian hymns.
Each beat, a cosmic blessing,
a burst of ambrosian pulse.
Here, under the empyrean eye,
I do not abhor the fire—
I become it.
Not to eviscerate,
but to bloom.
Under the balmily breathing heavens,
where Aurora flushes in alabaster sighs,
I start—barefoot, puzzled,
overflowing with benedictions I cannot name,
aloud.
Beating with a buoyant rhythm,
between delight and burn,
a ballet of buoyancy
between the fragile and the infinite.
In the stillness of the body,
bloom blessings.
The slight exchange of breath
with outer surroundings —
every inhale a balm,
Every exhale a flame.
The lure of anguish beckons me forth.
How the shapeless yearning morphs,
into a bright serenade,
a labyrinth of luminous emptiness
drifting softly with a soothing cadence.
Below the umbrella of the aged,
I release the rapture’s remorse
and bask in the benevolent blaze.
I am content with simply existing.
No truism, no clamor—
just the deep delight of resonating,
the blessing of silence
simmering in my bones.
A spirit, unquiet, lingers deep within,
Luminous and resplendently vibrant.
Asteria permeates my bloodstream
The beauty of her song is seductive
A mysterious hint of elegance
Her melody is simply enchanting
I am thirsty, yet I am fulfilled.
The burn is not noxious —
not a pyre, but a lovely beat, melodious,
Not a curse, but a seraphic ubiquity,
that makes me halcyon with serendipity.
I do not condemn the blaze —
I invite it
I embody it,
It is bright, blithe, and boundless
It is the breath I have become.
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