LOVE

Valentine

For those who know

how to access to their hearts

For those who know

how to extract from it

their peace and love,

For those every breath

could be their Valentine. ;)

Stoyan Svet

Off the Coast of Love

My wife tells me I should pay more attention to details —
the house, the car, the lawn —
there’s a thousand things, by sunset, that need to be done.
She’s right, of course.
It’s true.

*

If only I wasn’t floating three feet off the ground today,
caught in the updraft
of a single gaze from you,
spinning like a thousand cyclones
off the coast of love.

Love Is

Love … when I am feeling it I am complete.

Gratitude is a natural by product, because the outlook is good,
whether or not everything is going my way or not.
If clarity fills my sight, I am happy, sadness has disappeared,
and hope rises brightly on the horizon.

I find the fluctuations of our emotional terrain to be like the weather. However even if it rains, I have an umbrella to protect me, regardless of what is happening on the outside.

The mirror of my lover

As I search your face, I am drawn to the depths in the pools of? your eyes. Shyly,? hesitatingly, fluttering butterflies of small fears, half hidden, I am very much the secret watcher.

I am temporarily held captive by the feeling of the silky softness of your skin against my own. I am in awe of the pounding rhythm of your heart which carries? mine, to places that alone I would never dare to go. I catch my breath with the beauty of you.

There is something so pure, so innocent, so much of the truth of love reflected here. A man is not supposed to be so open, so vulnerable, so true, I hear that nasty whisper spoken in my? mind. But, I am the one whose breath is stopped.

You are the one who is capable of remaining in the pure breathing space of in and out, accepting the truth of….. that you love, with no boundaries imposed on your heart. You are a seeker of? freedom’s spaces, a lover of love itself and all of her faces. I am the learner here.? Where did you gather such courage? How did you muster such will to circumvent the mirage of no one loving?

Yes, I will stay with you awhile. Resting in the miracle of the mirror. You, who is reflecting the open ended possiblities of? my own heart.

It is my desire? as well, to discover. To take this? journey into the depths of myself. I will rest here for just awhile, joined in breath with you as a secret watcher. Until my own true lover comes, rising from the sea of love within. I will be a drop in my own ocean, until the ocean takes from me all seperation. I will celebrate with you this dance of secret mirrors. But only still for awhile….

The Smell Of Love

I walk through the café of life.

There are several smells along the way. It is a café of smells. There is no escaping beauty, doom, magnificence, banality and orchids. We are swimmers; sinking is not an option.

The Smell of Love is the most noteworthy. It writhes like a golden serpent, sinking deep into fabrics unseen, riding in Dream Territory, speaking to the sounds that came before words.

It is the smell most of us avoid, yet the fragrance most of us seek. The odor undealt-with, the nameless sound we all recognize like a dog’s ears that rise to the Distant Familiar.

Rumi and Kabir Bowling

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Last year, as I understand it, Rumi was the best selling poet in the United States — 800+ years after he was alive. Amazing, eh? Clearly, there is something timeless and universal in his words. Kabir, too, is still being widely read — as is Hafiz, Gibran, and a host of other ecstatic poets from times gone by. Many people assume these guys must have been praying, meditating, and going on pilgrimages all the time. I don’t think so. All one has to do is read their poetry to see how down to earth they were, how irreverant, and how funny. Anyway…this next piece is an homage to Rumi and Kabir — my little fantasy of how the two of them might have spent an evening — in a bowling alley — if they were still alive today. (Read it aloud for maximum value). Enjoy!