Poetry is a mystical process for me....
When I fully surrender myself unto it, I find myself immersed in a creative process that engages my entire being- my mind, body, and spirit. The mystery of this practice is that while a poem may come from me, it is also simultaneously independent of me. There is an unknown, otherworldly aspect that also lends and injects itself into this dance with words.
I sometimes experience this creative energy as a mysterious personality who has many different moods and faces, who sweeps me away on adventures and transformational journeys. She, for I have given her a feminine persona, takes on the essence of whatever it is I need. Thus, she is powerful, comforting, seductive, graceful, and so much more.
How variegated is the wide range that can be found in the human experience- from the agonizing depths of deep despair to the dizzying high of great heights, and everything in between. It is precisely this ability to suffer and enjoy in so many unique ways that makes us who we are- spiritual beings having human experiences.
As a practitioner of bhakti yoga, devotional loving service to the Supreme, developing and cultivating personal, loving, relationships are the ends as well as the means to reaching the highest platform of love of God. For me, poetry is a means to such an end.
Oh, poetry- you capture my heart and stir my soul.
Oh, poetry, you thing of beauty.
Waiting in the shadows,
Your formless face veiled.
Humbly, patiently kneeling in servitude.
A gentle and chaste handmaiden
Cloaked and enshrouded in gauzy robes of ether
Oh, Poetry! You wicked seductress.
Shape shifting mistress of dusk, dawn
And the unclaimed spaces in between.
With your wild, untamed tresses
Your flashing glances smolder and burn.
You are insatiable, greedy
Ravaging and consuming me
With your relentless needs and demands.
You, my poetry! You’re a graceful dancer.
Flowing, dipping, twirling, whirling
Mesmerizing your partner and audience alike.
Glimpses of milky white shoulders,
delicate arched neck
Your movements are hypnotic and enchanting.
Such is your magic, your spell
That each think they, alone, sway in your embrace.
Poetry! You are a swollen ocean wave,
An embodiment of nature’s power.
The force and strength of 1000 barreling freight trains,
Unstoppable and indiscriminate in your destruction.
Your white, foam-flecked peaks
Like the frothy beard of a rabid dog.
At times I have been caught in your swell,
Tossed about helplessly like a rag doll.
Half drowned yet half alive.
Poetry. You are a mother to me,
I, a newborn babe cradled in your arms.
Holding me close to your ample, comforting bosom
You smell faintly of milk and roses.
Gently shush shushing,
I am lulled into a state of drowsy contentment
As we rock in a worn cushioned chair
Back and forth, back and forth,
At times, poetry, you are like a razor sharp dagger
Lethal, unsheathed and without a scabbard
If I grasp you roughly,
You pierce and slice.
Leaving your signature, an angry, red sear.
‘Handle with care,’ is what you tell me
If I wish to use your pointed tip as a surgeon’s tool,
Sometimes I cannot find you, poetry.
Alone and wistful I am left wondering,
Have you forsaken me?
Then, there you are!
Peeking mischievously out from around the corners of my words
Playfully, you have been hiding
You throw your head back and laugh in mirth.
My friend. We hold hands and run off to play.
Poetry, you are my angel.
You float down on soundless wings.
I cannot look at you directly when you are like this
You are suffused with and emanate a radiant, blinding light.
You help me forget everything else
And become one with my prayers.
A divine messenger, you carry my love to my Lord.
Tunneling through passageways hidden in the innermost recesses of my heart.
Salty tears seep out of the corners of my eyes in gratitude,
I hide my face in shyness.
Vrinda Aguilera is a Montessori trained primary school teacher, an intuitive energy healer, a closet poet, and practitioner of bhakti-yoga. She is passionate about supporting women on their spiritual journey and is a professionally trained life-coach. She lives in rural Florida with her husband and three children where she blossoms in the experience of her own mothering. You may connect with her by e-mailing her at: firstname.lastname@example.org
~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~