Every part of our selves are open except our minds, and yet that is where so many people live…
In the smallest room in the house, in the basement of our being, but it is love that calls us out,
with a beauty that begs to be felt… and so begins the only game we will ever know,
the temptation of the soul from its shelter.
— David Enke
I am tired of the surface and the shit, I am tired of facades and phoniness
I am leaving for the day, into myself. If you wanna know where, listen to this and follow the clues
see it standing there
feet in lavender and
head touching the washed
blue sky breathing in
the scents of grapes
and souls
a winery, a church
one and the same
the place of crushing
and filtration,
fermentation
maturation
the small and winding road
leads to the cavernous
inside, beams like
the bones inside Jonah’s Whale
and all swallowed within
who wish to become whole
but only in the crush
the broken shattering
can true wholeness emerge
in scents of lavender
and notes of bloody grapes
I did mean to say “breathe”
and not “breath”
clothe me in clouds
wreathe me in smoke
let the fresh breath(e)
of the deep Universe
touch my dry skin
and let me drink deep
the water of Life
from the Wellspring
of Love
i find myself constantly
bending over backwards
to become the table
the banquet feasting table
that my enemies
come and sit down to
a meal that I serve up
before they rise and run
at me with their sharp spears
i stand watching
that train rushing
flying by fast
and furious
ethereal
everyone on it is thin,
transparent and afraid
to just step off and grow
thick and green and
gravitational
spinning across
the blooming sky
and singing in
the solid dirt
there are the ones who claw
fierce at the universe
the way an anteater
claws at a log trying
to scratch out beauty in
small ant-squiggle pieces
about Twenty-Four hours
long, each one that long
then there are those who breathe,
who open their eyes and
breathe and blink in wonder
and awe because of what
they see made beautiful
in the seeing, in breathing
in of every breath breathed.
those who seek to consume
beauty and thus embody it
are doomed to dissolution
for flowers fade and wither
and end up burned and gone
but those who simply look
and look again in wonder
will find the Beauty flowing
within their eversouls
made beautiful
made beautiful
Charissa's Grace Notes 
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