OPENING IN TO THE NEW
Missive #36 - Transcribed Poetic Dictation with Vision Accompaniment
[It has been two weeks since you heard from me—longer than usual! There has been much on the air, incredible transformations abound. Two weeks ago we were on the threshold of the Chinese New Year. And so the dawn of the year of the wood dragon has arrived. 2024 is now well-established. Every day feels like a year’s worth of inner iterations. “Prepare for sudden breakthroughs and changes of fortune” indeed. And yet, funnily enough, both tonight and two weeks ago, I was put into the position of recording my recitation while my sinuses were waging war. Yes, the worst of the world continues to flail and bomb and hide and deride. I do my best every day to root into and from a place of self love. There is little else I can promise as I prepare for my wedding this spring. I am remembering to drink water. To feel intense gratitude for my easy access to clean delicious drinking water. I am reminded of the blessings and miracle of my union, of my intimacy, of my relationships, of my home. The beauty that surrounds me. The beauty I am fortunate enough to offer the world in this horrific time for the collective. I open my eyes and open my heart and open my hands, and write, for you~
Several pieces of writing spawned from the richness of the past 14 days. None of them could be shared, until today’s arrived. This missive was originally titled ODE TO A NEW AGE, but had to evolve into its current formname OPENING IN TO THE NEW before the rest could be revealed. A couple of potent visions accompanied this piece. I am quite fond of it, of the play of it, of its humor and lilt. May it bring you some of the pleasure and relief it brought me. Of worthy note is an interesting little ghostblip-sound in the recording at “by the hands…Of our ancestors” — this is so rare in my recordings I decided to leave it in. I do not know its purpose, and yet it belongs.] Received 2/23/2024 | ~2:30-3am
Listen to the Recitation:
OPENING IN TO THE NEW
The curse becomes the cure, as
The currency, the curency, curiculum:
Heaven is not as far from Hell as we might think;
Drink water, breathe deeply,
Look closely, sit quietly.
The cedar wood burns; its smoke clears
A passage into the netherbeyondary, breathing
Long, slow breaths that keep pace with change
And set the pace of change, of integration;
Integrity is a bygone peril enveloped with love
Seedhearted and deep rooting, winding down
From a valleybellowed voyage, back rendering
Foul, or else a fool, I'm taken for and by
The winding subterranean route, carved by hand
Nigh twelve thousand years ago, the long cold
Night, falling star-struck calamitous, the original
Celebrity of the earth, colliding and smoking
Indents or intaglios, transitioning to carving
Emerging rounded shapes, spirals lest known
Into crescent tangles, ringlets of rivulets down
Fallen angels, carven cast and craven, holy
Bespoke tailored wings, six all told, and every
Way wild, or whimsy, as they bend and curl and
Curve transdescent, no longer iridescent, not
Empty, not full; the once-was angel looks up
And laughs, tears rising up into the allheart of
The one, holy, Beloved One, who is not up
And yet we look Up to Her, to Him, to Them
As if in memory, or in awe, or in admiration
For a glory untold and unsung is a glory
Undenied in its greatness, in its holdings
The whole of the all is here, in that new folding
Unfolding ancience—conscience some say—
Consciousness to others—or energy, or power, or
Vibration resonance frequency found and feeble
To follow anything that is everything, and every
Nothing noting but one all encompassing sense
Of every circling circumference inferential
Infernal hounds hounding the scent of this one
Luscious lay of the land, lay of the purest land
Which lay not anywhere before us nor behind us
Nor within us, nor anywhere else by us; it is
A place unplaced for us, to be for us when the us
Of our present believing knowledgeable self-ish
Calibrations bend again to the elder libations
Of spirit unrung, a harp's strings undone,
Plucking each from its tense positioning between
Until the twang is tinged with a sorrow we do not
Know, nor can we grasp or hope or wish our way
Into the warmest recesses of this hum drum beat
Beating slowly, insistently, incessantly, in the far
Grooveskeins of a wiling tapestry whiling itself
Through and through and through, and over
Upon itself to be, and become anew a new
Strange scene, no less horrible, but glowing
True. We reach out to the dim demilight it gives
And plunge into the weight, sinking below
The surface thin crust, softly glimmered
And rippling now, in afterthought to the touch
As the shadow of our behooving grows slower
And slower, slowing up into a newly ancient
Experience of nothing else, only that which is,
And only barely the surface of that, I am
Here in the thickness of this, yearning through
That, and then, and how. Bubbling, I do not breathe
I choke in automation, artificially, and gape
The barrel falls through my hands, grains of silica
Sand sifting, softening, as they weave in and out,
Threads on the loom, the distant is not distance
And the near is not nearby, forever instinct
Three richly colored flames lift themselves down
As a feather falls, through the watery murk
Towards me, surrounding me, spinning about me
Wills o' the wispfire, with high-pitched ethereal
Laughter of spring, from Underhill denizens to
Overdale dunnhammockery, the lesson is never
Learned. We listen to the teaching and breathe
The spirit of the teacher, all-compassionate,
Conjurer of every dread happening, solemn
In their levity uncrowned, unkinked and reworked
Malleable alloys of tin, copper, gold, platinum
Cast in sharp forms, carved wax, green dragons
Thrashing, as giant sequoias overlooking the
Great Lake, filled with a thousand million lost dreams
Treasures buried in silt, in dense graygreen muck
Shipwrecks and ruins and giant carved stones
Images of animals, antlered figures dancing, stars
Falling from the heavens, to create a beautiful hell
Anew unto the surface of the earth, blazing
Glistening from impact, spewing forth ash and snow
And cresting ice shelves, expanding and receding
Homes demolished, civilizations withdrawn
Mountains become islands, and islands seabed
Roads become underworldly ridges, runways
For crustacean colonies, corals bleaching
Skeletal ecosystems reforming unimaginations
Barreling down into a new now beholden current
Capacitive of anything other than an eagle's young
Born in a condor's nest, transferred to the hiding
Place of the Phoenix, nestled among dragons
Red and Blue and Purple and now Green. Bright
Dark blueish green, lakebottom night teal, mud
Covering as a veil, the rippling exterior, I reach
The other side, after a hundred million lifetimes
Sinking, slowly, ever more slowly, through the
Place of my last most recollection of self, shade
Summoned home again, from its separation
In the temple of my undoing. Touching now
The behind of the rippling surface, at the end
I come out, reborn, wincing in the dimdarklight
Of this new age, this new world, this new quality
Of perception, of integration, of interpolation
And, blinking, I catch scent of the wisp of a
Tailend tale, sounding itself down, closing the cover
Clicking the latch in place, well-honed, heavily gilt
Set with amethyst and onyx and pearl, by the hands
Of our ancestors, spun by spinsters and singers,
Muses and oracles and nobles and wayward
Wanderers, of belligerent enchantment, and
Fondstruck folly, and then—the dust settles
In the library's long settled desk, and the light
Comes on, and the room into focus, clear,
A scene from a salient mythline, reddish-brown,
All rounded edges, upturned points, gold-flashing
Bindings on countless shelves, stacks on stacks
Before me, alone, here in this otherworldly place
I sit, and smile, and cry, and close my eyes
And breathe in to this new now
And open, myself, to myself again
And in the stillness that follows, I
Breathe out, the whole of creation, the whole
Of the all, of the one most beloved allheart wholly
I and Not-I and Mine and Thine
And in that breath, I create myself
And in that breath, I myself am lost
And from that breath, I open my eyes into
The new.
