Skip to main content

THE INVISIBLE KISS by Laura Demelza Bosma

This is a poem about how the inner shadow of thoughts and emotions dissolves when she is heard, and makes a woman come to full blossom…

I wrote “The Invisible Kiss” a while ago to help myself silence my mind: a call to listen to myself and my inner need for the peace I experience after being heard. I’ve walked through life a lot looking for those ‘ears’ that wanted to hear. I’ve finally found a partner who has the quality of listening. Being with him I regularly experience ‘the magic that happens if the listener is gentle and the storyteller’s voice grows wings’.

But what if we sometimes need a listening ear when no one is there? What do we do when we’ve got an urgent need for a mother owl on our shoulder who will tell us stories, and listen to us at the same time, simply by being there?

At such times, we have to become this owl for our selves; integrating its qualities into our own being. The ‘no self’, the ‘silence’ we are longing for can only be found when we are one with what is. This union—that happens with the acceptance (not meaning there is a lack of passion) of the movements our thoughts and emotions make— is what I call the ‘Invisible Kiss’. We can call our inner owl, or inner bear (as in my bear painting below), by painting, singing or writing poetry. We can feel heard and kissed while we are actually on our own.

I think it is this kind of ‘spiritual kiss’ of surrender, that Kate Bush sings about in her song ‘The Sensual World.’ When we love ourselves we open up to the sensual, blossoming women that we already are:

How we wish to live in the sensual world
we don’t need words
just one kiss then another.”
Artwork by the author, Laura Demelza Bosma

The Invisible Kiss
by Laura Demelza Bosma

If you´re tired, just go to sleep,
if you´re happy don´t make your soul weep over empty images.
Stop drowning, breathe..

Each dog left alone will start howling if no one hears. 
Let it howl to calm down.
Allow the dog the self-experience of howling. 
Its sound is just as much a flight
as the dive of an owl.

The old owl lands on my shoulder.
She is the mother reading books aloud
teaching that magic happens
if the listener is gentle
and the storyteller’s voice grows wings
and this on and on.
Through time and space
the roles are ever-changing.

We are only looking for the invisible,
the no me,
the sea of light,
the silence after the fight,
the brightness of some thoughtless being in the sun.

Come along, in being:  
vibrant like the trees
we kiss the answer.
Pictured is the author


Laura Demelza Bosma (1986) is a Dutch singing and painting poetess living in Austria where she gave birth to two lovely children. She follows the river of life and loves to spend time to take care of her roots, just by being where she is wherever she is. The magic is in the little things. Laura won a few Dutch youth-poetry-prices and studied Writing For Performance at the art academy. A poetry volume got published, called ‘ Zo vliegen de walvissen’. (Thus The Whales Fly) One of her favourite expressions was the performance of her poems. They were well received at poetry-slams and other small literature-festivals. After taking part of shamanic ayahuasca-ceremonies and visiting the Babaji-ashram in Loenen (NL), Laura more and more lived her life in the name of devotion (bhakti yoga), being a woman and opening up like a flower. At the moment she is learning to become a Doula, a servant for woman during pregnancy, labor and the weeks afterwards. She wishes to combine her experience with the healing capabilities of creativity with the ones of becoming and being a mother, trusting the natural strength, love and wisdom of our own inner mother goddess, wearing all our different faces and situations. Visit her at her website here. 

~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!~

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MY HEART SEEPS by Edith Lazenby

Courage is not only facing fear, but also looking past fear, to see what lies it tells and truths it saves...
Sometimes I sit at a computer in trepidation. The house trembles and I wonder what I will find. 
Truth is not a fact or a feeling. It may rest on love’s heart and walk with integrity. It may stand beyond humanity in ways we can only imagine. Truth can be solid as earth and fickle as wind. But a wind can know stillness and the earth can crack wide open.
Tonight I found a stillness in a crack and managed to balance there...


My Heart Seeps
by Edith Lazenby
I cannot hold on And I cannot let go. I walk a path I don’t know. I feel moonlight But cannot see Its orb midst The cloudy cold. My hands tremble. My eyes tear. My toes wriggle To grasp earth. I want to stand Tall in the light Yet fear shadows all. Inside I crumble Under the weight I cannot shoulder.

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Depression
Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…