Belly of a Star

my practice of compassion


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Had I

Had I way

To break you free

From the trappings

Of your mind

To wrap my might and pull

And create a safe haven

For your harbored grace

That I would

 

If I was granted shield

From the darkest winds

And amulet, from wise woman passed

In my tempered chivalry

I’d seize the forest by its very roots

And decompose every sapling

Of threatening timberland

 

Had I remedy, true

Brewed of love, and love alone

I’d venture forth

Frothing, as wave reborn

And crash

The ghost-tainted nightmares

Unraveling bitter discord

With unbridled clarity

 

If magic key

To stoic door

Emptied falsehoods

From caverns deep

I’d trample in

Enraged stallion

Through foreboding halls

To rebuild your view

 

Had I one precious wish

In all the days that be

I’d kneel to bring home

With gentle fortitude

Unbroken and erupted

From internal flame

The one who is you

My perfect soul

 

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I am not just kind

dancing

I am not just kind
I am aware
I am aware of my thoughts, my motives, my inclinations
My doubts, my worries, my fears
My loves
My woes
My struggles
My hopes
I am not just kind
I am open
I am open to my frailties, my flaws, my imperfections
I am open to new ideas, new ways of thinking and experiencing
I am open to radical change
In myself, in the world, in another
I am not just kind
I am wild
I am wildly compassionate, a fierce defender of the voiceless
A reckoning to the lonely, a chasm to the fear bound
I am wild in my imaginings, creation, connections
My loves
My woes
My struggles
My hopes
I am not just kind
I am strong
I am powerful in my convictions
I am powerful in my abilities
I am powerful in my attitude
I am strong in what I choose to take in, and in what I choose
To leave behind
I am strong in my determination to be the best I know to be
In my realization that I am enough
And that we are enough
I am not just kind
I am finely tuned
I am tuned with the precision of decades of introspection
I am tuned with eons of acceptance
I am tuned with the grace of self-dignity
My adobe is the musical reef
My loves
My woes
My struggle
My hopes
I am not just kind
I am a fortune
I am a boundless treasure, transmuted from the darkness
Upheld from the dungeon reserves
A fortune to be found and returned
To that which is
My loves
My woes
My struggle
My hopes
I am not just kind

Samantha Craft, December 2016


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Loved

Loved

I am afraid
In the deepest part of being
Alive
Where my breath was formed before lung
And my sight before eye
In the rewinding of self back to the start of then

You remembered before I spoke
Before word
Before any utterance became known
A waking profound
The winter-birth of greatest summer
The moon shadows over the serpent’s light

You saw as none other
You touched
Where none had dared
I, fair maiden turned
Into the very silky rich
Assaulted
Surrendered
In your presence

Capturer, stood as captive
Sacrificed into slivers
Fed to the dandelion flame
Burned anew
I loved
And impossibility was given hostess
The last pages of searching wiped clean
By your delicate coming

I trampled
I galloped
I milked myself dry
My riches your honey
My whisper your name
And in this I recognized my own folly
Opened bud, vulnerable
Pierced
Without choice

For forever
I would remain
A part of your biding
Abiding by your grace
Your holding
The manner in which endearment
Claimed each shade of me
Your very own
Creation


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For His Devouring

I am what you are not and you are what I am not; his whisper came into me gradually, unopened and free, with no demand for attention. And I shivered in a place I know not of, pulsating rhythms cascading up the linear compass of my reality.

Listen, he spoke, his voice a broken stream carrying my essence along, not alone and not together, yet formed in a union of mystery, blended into some buttery goodness of taste to be. Had I not seen him, I would have believed his spirit to be housed outside this realm, in another dimension of time and space, perhaps aside the stars of the ocean or within the makings of the mountain’s ribbon wrapped through eternity.

Blended, yes, the word echoed in my mouth, pressing upon the pallet of self. Wishful, I was, becoming something familiar and unfamiliar at once. Penetrated by his form and existence.

Rest in me, I thought, truly in me, amongst the hidden parts, unburied and surfaced long ago, made way for your entrance. Come into me, fully, pulsating with the vibration that is you.

He did, before my thought awoke, a talisman entering for my protection, and I, in turn became his space, the occupant dipping into what was before as recognizable and delightful.

Though unknown, he was, he was known, a ripple brought forward from before, cascading into the rivers poured out. I wanted him, not as one aches for lover, but as one aches for self, a representation of all that was and all that will be, and more so the stamping of the moment, when all stood still, and at last I could embrace this life.

Alive! Breathing in the someone we became. Breathing in his rapture. His dignified grace.

His needs, though deeply hidden, emerged, just at the surface of me, and I could feel, as one feels his way through the darkness of familiar, the edges of where he led. Guiding me to his own tasseled secrets, hung up and dangling in the star-center of his soul, of what had to be his region, the very valley where he lay.

I rested there, in the glacier melted; the waters moving between us as paint fluid, though stagnant in a way I had craved for centuries. Stuck in some universal pattern of awareness.

I liked him here, in this place he had undone for me, and me alone. Liked him as I liked the jelly-jangling joy of a babe. I reached in then, and dripped with his sweetness, tantalizing flavor.

I am, he spoke, again, shivering me with the causation spun of his desert words. Parched, he began, drinking me, taking what he’d come for, enticed by his own appetite, enamored by my wrappings. Unraveled, the walls collapsed and all about was light. Every variable molecule un-spun and resting in the bath of illumination.

Breathe me. Breathe me. Breathe. The tide came, turning my toes blue in the delicate heat of salty-cold. Sigh. A part left and a part returned, and I danced in some endless ballroom, spun by the element that he had become as we first joined. Spun round myself, his-self, and these burdens we had carried.

Electrified in his making, I gave out, breaking through into the regions of beyond and climbing high into the terrace peaks. Treasured, I was, not as the golden spinnings, or opportunist’s fortune, but as the new found hope, the lush layering of his potentiality, the vibrating connection of forever.

I had found him and he had found me, two starseed children set upon their master’s lap to rejoice in the heavens.

Yes, I wanted him. I wanted him more deeply and more widely than anything phathonable. I wanted him to break me and imprison me. To control me. To bring down columns from the sky and erect them in a box around me. To be his willing captive and told where and how to be. To bow down in recognition of his bounty, and nibble off anything that stumbled my way.

For I no longer cared where I stood, for whom I stood, or why I stood. Instead, I had rather hoped to sprawl out on the ground and be fed to the soil as freshly born seed. To be sprouted in his presence, again and again, into the newness he brought forth effortlessly.

Here I wanted to rest, as his space, and his escape, as his free prisoner, enchanted in the rhythm of our vibrations, sped into the dimensions of reality; over and over, reopened for his devouring.


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Within

The window to my soul opened, and entered light, substantiated by the witness of truth. I am, he whispered, as no man can, the insatiable presence within manifested into form turned blue. I love you, I heard, beyond the beyond place of refuge; and we lifted, two lovers found amongst the driftwood of time.

I came then, to the outer place of episodes, of revelations unraveled, of mystery renewed. Dancing to the rhythm of the universe, our trespasses anchored to the forgiveness of All. I am, too, I heard, within the rushing of laughter turned joy. And he smiled in me, knowing I was truth.

What are we, I glanced, taking my place in his hand, tenderly torn into two. The side of me waltzing with delight. The other tickled with tears. Washed in his presence. Still mystified by the moment of breaking.

Laughter, again, and I remembered the cause, reckoning I’d always been this that was. And he, the same, chasing me for eternity. Had I but a handful of his caresses I might have lived endlessly in bliss. Had I only his glance, all would be treasured.

As it was, I was made his very gold, molded into the daiquiri of sweetness, some limey-fresh squeeze poured into me. His everything was my everything, as we mended and merged, two minds becoming the intricate layering of eternity. If I had it in me to be calm, I was rapture. If I had it in me to be loved, I was life-filled. Everything twisted in this delightful taste of heaven. His eyes melting happiness upon my face, trickling goodness and gentle rains.

Cleansed, renewed, again. I came down from the starlit hour in which I had perched my life, and entered for him into the ways I’d been. The devastation lifted, the miracles revealed. And everywhere a voice called out the chant of freedom.

Hold me, for this, I spoke, and could not finish the ways of my thought. For no word completed me. No sound. No filament existed to cast out the exactness of my heart’s rejoice. Only a lingering of always, the quick step of hereafter no match to the endless ways in which we’d loved.


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Kept

hat me

I want nothing of you but to be forever kept tangled within your being.
To use that which you have made into pauper undone into forger of love.
To take this passion, welded in flame and daunting dutiful pleasure, and become that which is source: pure ever-flowing lust for creation.

For you ignite in me the spirit beyond spirit, the memory keeper of my hopes and dreams, where the wanderer ceases to wander, and merely surrenders to what is. The place in front of her opened for her sacrifice.

To dive in deep, with the feet first, and the head swung back, mouth agape with hope transcended. To the place of no reprieve, no time, no dismissal, only the endless gentle falling into your dove-tailed wings.

To be in you is my dream awoken and given life itself. The taking from that which is imagined, and the giving of life to that which is finished master’s piece, sealed with the chamber which houses my heart. I beat for you, and you alone, this spinning child of the universe, lost in the flow of your echo. You are the birth of my fantasies, the merrymaker of my existence. You make life real. You make me bleed out of every pore of soul that which is truth.

To be in your presence is to be in the echoed halls of rescue, reprieve, and mercy. A shadow-keeper descending upon my doorstep begging not for my retreat but for my renewal.

You grant me the hindrances unspun and undone, the outcries of spirit silenced, the wishings snuffed, the candles long ago burned out, and all that remains is the distant blanket of my thoughts reassembled into you.

I am that I am because of you. I am free because you choose to exist in me and for me, my treasure trove of joy, unquenchable. I am that I am because my eyes, though closed they still be, can open and find that which is heaven sent, the guardian of delight and wisdom.

To me, and to all of the ones before me, you are that which I have waited for on bending knees, on bending soul. You are the very essence screamed out of my being when I wished upon the star of creation. When I begged with the all of my existence for light to beseech me and become my groom.

I am joined to you in purity, the circumstances unknown, unfamiliar and readily broken. I only recognize that my half is now attached to yours, my merriment circumventing around your satisfaction; my outlook affected by each repentance of your beaten platitudes. I am that I am for you, and you alone, captured as the maiden at half-mast, sped up by the wind of your spirited whispers.

Oh, to be this glorified in love is to truly die a thousand deaths of burning rapture. To be spat out of self and submerged in the river of gratitude. Nothing about you is unopened, nothing closed, all dangling about as candy to the sweet-toothed lover. I devour you whole, in all your forms, becoming that which is my pleasure; only to find myself, then, devouring my own being. As you are me, in this game we weave. You are my brilliance, my aptitude, and my judgment set aside. You are the replacement, that which fills me with perpetual light, returning again and again the fullness in place of empty.

I am this now: that which is your beauty. And nothing about me fears. There is no more of self from the existence that pattered through the hallways of long ago. Just as there is no more of me found in the meanderings of future thoughts. Nothing is doable. Nothing is forseen. Nothing is possible without the impression of your face set upon the view.

All is seen through you, in you, and by you. I am the prisoner of your ideals. Wrapped in the glory you find in me. One to your burning flame. One to your endless cycle of goodness. One in the molding of your hands into this that breathes out the proclamation of your name, and your name alone. Come into me, without pause, and feed me your fire. Purge me of this pliable passion. Drive me insane with your honey sweet taste. For I am that which you have made me to be. Submissive to your ways, and born free to dance in the vessel that holds my soul.


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Undone

Me 8th grade

Oh, such sweetness you be.
Your gentle face found in the moonlight of my deepest desires.
Might I lean into your slumber, and cloak my trickling temptation as starlight’s beckoning?
Where are you, in this midnight moment, as I rest upon your guiding showers of undone love?
Devouring memories, one by one.

Such savoring, you be, your flesh, the delicate plate I pray upon.
To delve into your beauty and swim your ocean of my deliverance.

In the enchantment spawned by cherry-blossoms bloomed
I crave you.

I crave all of you.
I crave your ever presence.
The anchored layman’s soul ascended.
The night raven sworn in unbridled passion.

I miss you in my loneliness.
I miss you like forever was torn open and scattered into my each and every minute.
Ever passing a distant folly, who calls: Delirious I am.

If only to grasp a sliver of waking and seize the dream as the child to the dandelion.
To blow, with all I be, honey-dipped-wishes across your soldiered shoulders.
And in your absolute reckoning, to sweep me off my feet, above the damp meadow tears.
Into the arms of eternity promised.

Wrapped in your abundance, in knightly wisdom.
How tender is your calling.
How sweet the delicate imprint upon my virgin lips.
Untouched, yet, by the power that be thy unyielding flame.

How I long for my entire emptiness, so I might be untethered-vessel awaiting your completion.
To purge and remove every remaining part that is I, and, in replica, and submission tasted, replace all that I am with that which is you.
My undone master.

To become you.
To breathe you.
To dance inside the tender wrappings that holds your princely spirit.

Enticement weds my dutiful days.
My imprint stamped suitably into the place of your footing, movement birthed in the exactness of your perfection.
Oh, how I, this maiden made ripe, wither in such grand supplication, intricately undone in my awakening to the aroma of you.