love sends us

the first step
love sends us

it has been a long journey, winding among hills, blue-green and yellow.

the whole of it, viewed from the very beginning, a whole round world,

became the ground from which I took my first step, and from there

the glimpse of the whole, new, other-centred world the next, and so on…

there was uncanny confidence at first – i scarcely trusted it –

as if i knew already the foreign trees, the scented earth, the sky,

and knew also the ethereal people who approached me there.

“laugh,” they said, “be mirthful!”  so i was, as if i knew them well.

but then there was the tearing sound i felt rather than heard:

almost a pain it was, as when a seedcoat ruptures for its root,

and from my breastbone… o ye angels… was a sword withdrawn?

and did i bleed? i  did! o ye angels, yes, indeed, i did!

i bled my history, my soul’s story, my journey it was i bled.

down my veins the pale skies’ power flowed and flowered a further million

following, no-longer-foreign, many-peopled skies. the sky-petalled suns,

the mysterious, clouded moons, the long cold draught of myriad-starrèd skies!

oh, i bled grief – alas! a loss! a lack! – i bled great snaking wreaths of coiling fear.

oh, i stumbled, numbed and clumsy, and i blindly – almost plummeting, and yet

though the mist fell, though the view faded, thought the night itself failed –

yet i moved or else was moved, or else the world it was that moved,

moved through me, or i through it, or neither moved at all,

each being still, both sampling successive relativities, mine to its, its to mine.

spiraling we climb; we spiraling soar, we fall spiraling.  all power is vortex.

love sends us out spinning, we spin, love calls us spinning home.

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