In the Garden of Delights: 2. The Invitation

Whispers
in the wilderness:
a Voice.

like warming flame
flowing in a mirage,
calls,
reaching out
from the unknown
like the sunrise at dawn.

Come,
O come,
BE with me.

—[eyes open,
the slumberer awakes,
the recumbent one rises,
feet move forward,
step by mindful step,
heeding the beckoning call]—

Come,
I long to
refresh you.

—[forward momentum,
over trackless desert,
jagged tumbles,
deepest impressions,
and craggy peaks,
listening, listening]—

Come,
it calls,
the still voice.

the way,
it is crooked
and hard,
but I will make it
clear for you,
all will be made plain.

Come,
O come,
my friend.

when you arrive,
glad will be
the desert,
the rough places,
the bees,
the flowers,
and I.

Come,
let us be
together,
to shout,
to sing,
to love,
to rejoice,
to delight
in pure being.

Come,
that is all,
just come.

Celebration
awaits. 

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

This entry actually appeared here in 2010, but I realized yesterday that it needs to be part of a cycle I am writing now! 

Coherence

Walking in sand,

polyphonic motion,
a response
to the song of the sea.

The lapping of waves
is but an invitation
to join the rhythms
of the rising song.

The sun answers the moon,
who sings her verses in the night,
music that shimmers
of cool mystery and allure.

The sunsong brings warmth and light,
calling the birds and the fish,
calling to the upright:
challenge the horizontal plane,
challenge the vertical plane—
challenge being particulate
by being instead the wave,
or by just being,
or being within being
being.

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen