Every Now and Then

She has her moments of blissfully naked self-revelation entirely safe. Fear and doubt have no meaning her fullness and loveliness, grace and perfection beaming unhindered through infinite space absorbed in joy, reflected as love. She falls in love. The pleasures of hours pass like mere moments sighs of contentment expand empty space oozing with wonder at sheer revelation of made-for-eachotherness, soul-mate perfection ripe sensuality, rich primal meaning. She searches for meaning confused by words that speak nothing of love desperately scrubs to restore to perfection an ego-free union of life in the moment she struggles to unearth a new revelation oblivious to needing some space. She ponders dark space devoid of all meaning no revelation no love bereft moments blind to perfection. She senses perfection pervading the intimate vastness of space silently, patiently buffering the moments who clamor and bargain and wrestle for meaning heedless of ludicrous contexts of love with cunning they seek to prevent revelation. She receives revelation willing at last to accept her perfection of pure bright mysterious trembling love existing in all points of time and of space “thou art god, god art thou” finally has meaning eternity no longer parsed into moments. Transformed by revelation, at home in space, birthmarks of perfection, saturated with meaning breathing and pulsing the rhythms of love. She has her moments.