Recipe for a Hot Date
How do you choose to keep LOVE expanding?
My mom has always told me “Love doesn’t stay the same. It is either expanding or contracting. If you think it is staying the same, it is contracting”. This concept of Expanding Love has informed my LIFE, just as much as Intentional Creativity.
Poetry JAM (aka PaJAMas)
Recipe for A Hot Date (in the early morning)
Expanding Love for Two from the Red Thread Cafe
Repeat as often as needed.
You deserve to be loved.
Three years + later I am in love again! Those first two had qualities of expansiveness and days of what felt like hell. Like, let’s just move through the next five minutes, then we will tackle the next five.
And now. In love again, and very very very happy and amazed at this gift I get to live. And the way it overflows into my soul work. Is it ok to just admit you are ridiculously happy? I once had a conversation with Alice Walker where we agreed that being happy was a revolutionary act that would for sure piss other folks off from time to time. Around Cosmic Cowgirls though, we do our best to encourage out loud happiness. Bouts of it need to be acknowledged out LOUD.
there is this way
that the doors to my heart
have flung open so wide
their hinges are no longer useful to me.
so in the first Fall storm
after you came home,
you know the one that blew
all they yellow leaves on us
and you made a dress of gold for me?
and we danced to country music
pouring out of open window of the truck?
it was that storm
that finally busted out the hinges.
it was how you noticed the beauty
and showed it to me that caused me
to surrender any last holding of resistance.
yes I do see what you see.
so forget needing those doors to be well oiled
I don’t have need of them any longer.
the doors are just open now.
you don’t even need to knock.
But oh that first knock when you
came to my door! Who knew!
living this way with you
is exhilarating, breath-taking, my darling.
I won’t use the word fear
although walking around with
the doors of one’s heart blown
off is rather exposing.
you might need to hand me
your coat from time to time,
do you mind?
there is something in that
Southern sweetness that disarms
me. It started with one glance
and the doors began to
shake free of their locks.
those closed barricades
began to jostle in their hinges.
the key hole began to sing
with erratic winds through key
shaped openings. did you hear
it all the way in San Antonio?
songs of longing escaped
like gasps of breath not taken
in too too long all the way
from the streets of San Francisco.
I was calling your name, my
door was whistling for you to come,
and you heard me. It worked.
It doesn’t always work you, you know.
Finally you came to knock
a second time, this time
with suitcases in hand.
that second date as a doozy
as they say, and one year later.
eventually once all the
whistling in the keyholes had stopped
there was this quiet.
so quiet. we both seek
this kind of quiet.
where there is no
need for explanation
or pontification or
our hearts are pressed
together with no doors
and we know
we belong to each other.
we belong here.
still there is this key
I was wearing around my
neck the first night
we met. even though
there are no longer any doors,
this key belongs to you now.
If ever, for any reason
you should find
I have built any
new doors or windows
against the world or
most especially you.
this key will
the way to live is open.
here it is. the key to the door of my heart.
it is yours now. and so am I.
What is the color of the full moon?
Why does its face, so pale and delicate
with nothing more to sew with than reflected sunlight
so capture and enrapture the sight and soul sense of the Earth’s beings
How is it that your face
shining in my own sight sense
can still the hands of time
and captivate my everything into my one thing
which is you
The traces of your sultry curves
catch the glow from your sky-sisters face in the quiet hours
Silvery arcs of light
that no lens could ever reveal
drift into our windows on the scent of the jasmine’s midnight stroll
The bow of your hips trace the curve of that perfect waxing crescent of potentiality
that hangs pendant and resplendent
as if only to please me and for I alone to witness it from my opera box
The full transformation of the cycle
from new to full to new
as the sun reclaims the night dew
and as the swell steals the waves heave
I see you
in the nights amber and teal tinted soft embrace
Your soul and mind and spirit
sing loudly in the night
Especially when you sleep
The music rises and thrums
Until I can no longer rest and then…
as my eyes open and clarity returns
the cacophony quells and my minds rioting ceases
Pounding heart in my chest be quiet
Flooded senses beholding a pillow full of tossed blonde
Pink perfect breasts bathed in milk white light
begging but intolerant of the slightest touch of my hands…
In my mind I trace your many moons
New full waxing beauty of nights peace
Radiant silver body glow and lavender shadow promise
I cannot disturb you
Soft moonlight, fill my mind and my nights
In silent gratitude I receive you my love