sound of one hand clapping
When we abide in restful quietude,
divine energy gridlines come alive,
held still with vibrancy and fortitude,
causing nectar to drip from soul’s bliss hive.
There is no mystery in words we speak,
being simply devout intent of heart,
wishing to be still to get a sneak peek
at sparks that cause bliss ignition to start.
Though the seeker who seeks does not exist,
heart’s desire emoted needs a response
which it receives, manifest as a mist,
throb of bliss magnetism, held in love’s sconce.
The aspect of us entwined with the whole,
is imbibed in heart as whispers of soul.
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