The Call (to Presence) My body is a temple My garden is your playground My mountains offer solace, sweet - And in my heart is where you will meet God-ness. Your lips, Beloved, are a poem I have yet to write, I am your holy ecstasy. Drink me in, with your gaze, lovingly, your mind, your heart, your soul intertwined - the Holy Trinity of self-mastery combined. My body is a temple Calling you to worship Offer what you can give at the rose-petaled altar, And lay down what you cannot. Empty into the vast, eternal space of the Unknowing The sacred 'in-between' of in-breath and out-breath, Embodied Presence. My body is the Temple You've waited aeons for to pray to Your craving is insatiable Your appetite longing for this homecoming. Drop all illusion of existence and melt into Be-ingness. Your body is a temple Your garden is a playground Your mountains offer armistice Beyond valleys round and salient hills. Empty, empty, empty, For your body is the Temple T...
Women's Spiritual Poetry