Blue Beams and Kaleidoscope Rain

Love without opposite – faith and holiness hold hands.
At night, October's colossal moon hovers low beyond witchy oaks and so, I take off my clothes, my body, and everything else.
Moment by moment is now given towards the goal for peace.
The holes we close.
The “who” I serve.

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I called you “babe” but you never heard it.
October is perfect with its patent on blue beams one day and kaleidoscope rain the next.
We walk and talk but mostly, we don't do either.
If attraction is an assignment then what is non-attraction?
A mandate to give purity now.

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Sweet potato barley risotto with cauliflower leek soup.
The song of one gladdened cardinal in the rhododendron and one chickadee high in the pines reminds me of what I have not given.
She wrote, “Magnitude Reverses Modesty” and I understood it from the pocket of my bones.
Like the river loses itself in the sea, so too one releases others to release herself.
The witch dies, willing the house to Gretel who takes the confections down to the studs, uses fallen timber to rebuild a cabin, marries Medusa, and lives happily-ever-after.

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Deeper into the woods the dog and I scrape up against purple thorns and collect burrs around our ankles.
Rain slides down bark and seeps into cinnamon blankets of needles and leaves.
We shuffle, but do we dance?
We do not fail at sea.
We do not fail at Thee.