Open the Empty Seed
Don't tell me there is no time,
I'm already convinced.
If, on rare occasions
by will power or surrender
I stop my mind,
then time ends.
Yet my love
has become faceless now,
though she has many other faces
she paints upon others.
Her timelessness has features,
not movements, but instantaneous
visions.
Together we pair up,
engulf,
consume
the same star seeds.
No need to talk of my brother Jesus.
He knows stuff
that has been mistaken for secret knowledge,
but all of his parables
point to that Beloved,
She who hunts you down,
when your mind breaks open.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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