This writing is part inner dialogue, part prayer...
Mixed in are also equal measures of my creative exploration and self-expression. When I open the floodgates of poetry I never know what I'm going to release. Usually it is a result of responding to a glimpse of a mysterious notion or force, however slight or subtle.
Sometimes feelings of dissatisfaction or unease are the perfect grains of sand to provide for the coarseness that causes the stirring, shifting, sifting that is necessary in the soul's search for eternality, knowledge, and happiness, or sat, chit, and ananda in Sanskrit.
The divine origin beckons and invites the willing, inquisitive soul to sit for discourse and attend to his whisperings. Can you hear them? "Come. Come home. Take a step nearer to me, I have been waiting for you."
Only with a humble and soft heart can we hear his invitation and total reliance on his mercy and shelter are the only way. Caste aside any shadowy facades of knowledge or power and enter into the beauty of the hearts dance of willing, loving service.
Come home, can you hear his calls?
Teacups to Oceans
My Cup is Empty
When my cup is empty
And I hold it out to be filled
Hand unsteady, shaking
Gripping the fragile, porcelain
Just a little too hard
I need my cup to be filled
It is empty
I feel the vacuous lack so achingly
Will my cup be filled?
What will fill my cup?
What kind of drink am I hoping for?
Something hot, steaming, brewed up dark and rich
A roasted mug of java
Or maybe something a bit more delicate
Sepia colored and mild
No, no, for it is not tea that I talk of at all but more, more
The very elixir of life, is what I yearn for
An infusion of love
The infusion of love
Love, love, is what I speak of
'Ask, and you shall receive'
Is the message I get
My Teacup Runneth Over
Here it comes, pouring in, rushing in
From unexpected and variegated sources
A cascading waterfall
A torrential summer downpour
A buoyant splashing, spurting fountain
Whitewater, rushing, river rapids full of love
Is what I get
Hey, wait a minute,
I just have this little teacup
How can it possibly hold all of this?
This is too much, too very much for me to handle all at once
I stare in perplexed wonderment at my overflowing cup,
Spilling over the sides
Breaching the boundaries
Of my paltry, insufficient container
What in the world is all of this? I stutter in amazement
I'm not even sure I recognize it
This is too much
It feels foreign, alien, amiss
Surely, I am undeserving
'This is what you used to believe'
Half recognizable, half palpable
A little uncomfortable, if you will
'Be sure you really want what you ask for'
I am told
Yes, I want this
I just didn't really believe it to be possible
I didn't really feel worthy
'Yes, we know'
'You have asked,
You have desired
You are ready
You are worthy'
Cough, splutter, choke
Ah, I see, then I must get a bigger vessel
I must discard my tiny teacup
For, surely, a teacup cannot hold love
'No, it cannot'
And really we are speaking of my heart, aren't we?
I must grow my heart
Retrofit, remodel, expand,
Revise my very heart to be a worthy vessel
Teacups to Oceans
May my heart grow to be like the mighty ocean herself
Who does not keep all of her salty, frothy turbulently dancing waters
Confined all to herself like a meager swimming pool or murky pond
No, the great ocean continuously moves her waters throughout the cycle of her tides
Guided by the jewel like glance of the lunar eye
In a glorious ebb and flow, give and take choreography
She gives, she receives, never feeling too full or a scarcity of need
She accepts the daily bounty of the world's rains
Gifts from the clouded heavens themselves
She stretches her limbs in voluptuous mountain like white peaked waves,
Arms eternally undulating in her turbulent dance of existence
She encompasses and holds within her watery womb and embrace
All of the ocean dwelling creatures equally cared for and supplied for
Her surface is never burdened by whomever desires to float or swim on her surface
This is what I need to strive for in my inner capacity, the ocean.
Not a teacup.
Yes, that's better.
Be like the ocean in giving and receiving love.
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 an experienced 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
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