What is truer than?

What is truer than love?  There is nothing truer than love, my beloved.  Your your soft lotus feet that carry me across the thread of my longing.  Nothing truer than the caress of you while I sleep in the river of my body, unconscious, and breathing…
There is only you, and you in this little inhale of a life.  What’s truer than my love my beloved, than these salty tears that fill my heart.  What is truer than this fire that burns me white ash and rain, that tenders my spirit?  What is truer than the devi that makes love to me, that whispers my name in unspoken tongue.
Who am I in this flesh and bone?  I am a body of grace licked clean, sweat and fear rising out of the nebula of my womb.
Oh my darling, shining, white haired child, that dances naked feet and twirling.  You are my ‘ I Am,” picking wild grown wonder out of thin air.  Rooted in the soil of my body, despite the holocaust.  You still peer out on a mystical land where lions roam, oh sweet and feral innocence.  All I am, I Am.
The red balloon takes air, small perfection and blue sky.
I am here, here I Am, my waiting so near.  Braille beneath my fingertips, encoded in my like the memory of Ireland and Mr. Devi and the man at the door of room 105.  The Spanish flute song that serenaded my thirst.  I feel you in me like the fluids of my body coursing.  A hum of you on my lips, your baby skin shining luminous in the half moon of my belly.  Arrow left you said while you slipped into the life that left with the sun.  Dubai…
What is left in this thin pulse and yearn?  My Self grows translucent and the stones are stacked, desert cairns… and the only way home.  My hair touches the ground.  I sing my chanting soul, cell by cell resurrecting Eve, my lady of Guadalupe, Danu, Kali Ma, Hera, Quan Yin, Magna Dea, and the holy of the holy… Salvation.
Wake up, wake up the light is shining.  I am listening my Beloved, I am bowing, fill me, fill me.
This was written in the process of yoga, movement, breath, surrender, cellular memory, tears, and joyful reunion.  Thank you Hawah for your gifts, presence, self inquiry and seva.  I am so grateful.
love,
Santidevi

Written: September 21, 2010