Nothing will move her now

except the impulse from deep inside the bones of the earth.

The sound no ear can hear, the image no eye can see

The body no hands can feel

When this light inside awakens

The world turns upside down

Then inside becomes seeing hearing awake

Outside the lights are dimmed

No direction from here out

All roads pointing in

To the Way

To the Silent Holy of Holies (Who dares write or speak of this?)

The inner sanctum

Though inner and outer barely discernable, the body the permeable line between,

A panting animal

It breathes the outer in

And the brooding begins

The lonely gestation

Invisible to the eye

Turns in her dark soil womb

The animal body surrenders to its instincts and to the 

Greater Instinct driving its evolution

Now only a vessel for this 

New Life

Words turning in my head through my hand onto this page at first determined

To capture the logic and reason of my thinking

Then gently I give way to the ocean waves of poetry forming in the spaces between my thinking

And flowing without any effort onto this page

What is this poetry that

Is already written like a code

On the unwritten caverns of the Self?

That meets my mind, 

Humbled by its Presence

And if I open the door

Streams into my visible existence…..