"You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could." Louise Erdrich
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a little poem by Tracy Brooks, in honor of tonight's supermoon - Meet yourself in the glow of the full moon,
let her illuminate you, whisper to her the secrets of your soul. What has been longing to be voiced, set it free Her radiant light wishes to dance with you, her gentle caress wants to know your dreams. Allow your song to be heard, embrace your inner longings. The moon's sacred glow will guide you. i found this very tantric poem on a table in a coffee shop. it was too beautiful to keep to myself. i hope you enjoy it -
Prayer -David Abraham May a good vision catch me May a benevolent vision take hold of me, and move me May a deep and full vision come over me, and burst open around me May luminous vision inform me, enfold me. May I awaken into the story that surrounds May I awaken into the beautiful story. May the wondrous story find me; May the wildness that makes beauty arise between two lovers Arise beautifully between my body and this land, Between my flesh and the flesh of this earth, Here and now, On this day, May I taste something sacred. _ it’s hard and sometimes i get jealous
hearing about others morning coffees fancy lunch meetings and networking dinners especially when i realize that i’m hungry at the same time for both food and connection. chewing through last night’s leftovers, cold, watching the bluebirds and chickadees at the feeder in the backyard i realize we are all right where we are supposed to be. in case you ever wondered what it would be like to fly...
bird/girl her feathers glistened blue black in the sun as the wind gently caressed them. the view from so far above was breathtaking. she always had a fear of heights, but now it didn’t seem to matter. in fact, nothing mattered. just the warm currents of air flowing over her body, gently playing with the downy hair between her legs, reminding her that even if she was half bird, she was still half woman. ‘how did i get here?’ she wondered to herself. the thought that followed next was ‘who the hell cares?’ the wind became her lover now, sending little drafts of cold air over her nipples, hardening them. she spread her wings wider to make more skin available, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to soar. she rode the breeze easily, as if she had been flying forever. as if she had been making love to the elements for a lifetime. but the fact was that this was all quite new. every movement was another discovery, and she found that each time she beat her wings, a surge of sensual energy would flow through her, radiating heat and desire throughout her body. a soft sigh escaped her lips. er, make that her beak. she craned her head to have a look at her self, relieved that she was still there, mostly. she turned her eyes the other way to look at the triangle of feathers, the apex that began at the base of her spine, climbing up her back before fanning out over her shoulders and down her arms. she remembered an ex from years ago, an artist who loved to use her body as a canvas. one night she painted wings on her in much the same way they appeared now, the brushes so soft and sultry against her skin. she wore the painting, and not much else, to a costume party, delighted by the attention. later that night, in the shower, the paint left a smeared print of her wingspan on the tile, her back pressed against the wall, rivulets of water running over her breasts, the artist’s tongue painting a detailed masterpiece over every inch of her body... her daydream was quickly interrupted as she found herself suddenly in a freefall, having forgotten, for a moment, that she was somewhere in midair. “oh shit!” she thought as panic began to set in. she flapped her wings furiously, in an effort to regain her flight. the movement sent waves of pleasure throughout her body, overriding the fear. “oh fuck!” she gasped as a shimmering wave of energy caused her muscles to suddenly tense, then relax. she caught a current of air, then another, and another, slowly descending downward. she awoke that morning to the sound of birds chirping at the feeder outside her window, morning sunlight making pretty shadows on the wall in her bedroom. she yawned and stretched and rolled over to check the time, spotting a single, shiny black feather resting on the white pillow next to her head. |
about anandalila:
Anandalila is a tantric hatha yoga teacher and moksha magick practitioner. When she is not on the mat, she enjoys reading, writing, music, birdwatching, and, of course, chocolate. Archives
May 2016
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