Today's offering. Response to Ane's poem

RIPENING

From the places where the fairies spoke us
from the orbs of buttered buns,
from the place of wood fern bending
we've awoke to star and sun.

Magic is and was beginning,
innocence, if left, does shine.
No one to calls to make an ending,
to our ties with the Divine.

Then our blood tides fall within us,
opening up an inner wall;
Sex the teacher, tyrant, master,
power to heal and power of 'fall.'

Ripe and rounded yearns to join,
with another's fertile loins,
carless love makes carelss folly,
mindful sex makes bliss sublime.

Hearts given, stolen, lended,
squandered with a frantic pitch,
running down with full abandon
scratching on an unseen itch.

Healings come, and grace returneth
Some quite fast, and some with time
Ancient calls upon our bodies,
dance with children, now alive.

A song lies forming, from this newness
a pattern both bold and true.
We stand solo - alive and re-membering
soul's alert to heft and hue.

All is oneness, deep and silent
we're reborn, we are, anew.
Dark nights of the soul come calling,
Who are we we cry and spew.

Yes, in restless holy spirit
we reach out accross the span
past the legends and the stories
past the archives we've called 'man.'

Who are we, we are re-membering
Joining in a paired repast,
still the blood runs us like thunder;
still the moontides hold us fast.

Greying now, the sea's retreat
the moon draws down a path so clear.
Step in wonder, on creation
brush away the fearful tear.

Like an old tree we remain,
outward wrinkled, scarred and pruned;
all that's left is our essential
spirit, until that too's removed.

The simple song is now an opus
hewed of sinew, toil and heart.
The joy is now within the meeting
with our self and all its parts.

Life sung now to all creation,
back to self, and self alone
I sing to all the is-ness beauty
for at last I've now come Home.

MEP 8/11/2007

Love to us,

Melissa