My bed is a nocturnal typhoon.
Sheets crest and crash,
Humpback pillows breach and dive as
unrelenting for hours,
beckons, stirs, and disrupts sleep.
Ignore, endure or medicate it?
Last night I chose to listen
The Restlessness finally spoke:
Here to do and be transformative.
This energy has visited for decades,
Dissipated in younger years through online binges,
Or nights out with friends,
Or trysts with strangers.
No breakthroughs. No transformation.
Now it calls again with
Urgency, power, aliveness, with a spiritual
Life breaks through me
as Golden Light,
without origin or endpoint,
coursing nightly through my veins.
It won’t let me be
until I am broken into shards of Love,
expanding ever outward from the
Big Bang of my ruptured soul.
The Light of the World,
The mirrored Sun,
Engraves its glistening orb
into my briny, reflective seashore.
I must glow.
dares to appear as this vulnerable, flawed person,
What has been in me,
Has been me, all along.
In the world, yet not of it…yet of it,
I am the Pupating Universe,
unshackled and unafraid.
I am Jesus, Shiva, Mary, and Buddha
in this body, without apology
to anyone who will not understand.
When the droplet relaxes into its
Ocean-ness, the storm relents.
Now I can rest.