i really don’t want to talk about it. how special it was, my road trip with lady k. and ruby, to go see kd. not sure if i ever say that either. i want to express everything. but not this. there aren’t words for this feeling….boiling in my heart, still needing an outlet. mars went into leo at last and i am feeling it. wanting to play in every way. joy pervading. taking off the warrior cloak. putting down the warrior’s sword. picking up a wand instead. putting to practice, the practice. non-attachment. love generating within. nobody to be, nothing to cling to. watching the attachments rise and fall like the sea ebbs and flows. longing burning in my tummy like a star. oh the longing the longing the longing! it’s so intense! leo leo leo! whatever shall i do? call it to me! sing! roll around naked in the grass, paint with my fingers, try my very best, express express express! happiness is the root of the sacral throne now, even when unhappiness poses. cause it’s not about getting what i want…it’s about giving what i am. today i feel it, but i know there will be days when it’s stuck behind a dam, and i must strive for it, as pain takes her little-winged stand. observing…all the feelings come and go (speaking of michelangelo.) i am not going to measure my life in coffee spoons. nor will i waste energy on nit picking the fuck out of everything. rushing down the water slide of my feelings, hiding in the brush of my embarrassment, leaping toward the moon when it’s full, drinking from an amber gourd, writing down the details, coming more and more and more and more and more and more and more into body as love. nothing else to be, but love. no below or above. just love. i am a devotee of love and love is my guru. love stuffed itself inside of hanuman, maharaji, kd, me, and continues to pour through taking every name under the sun. you can pick any of them if you want, or they will pick you. i tend to be picked, rather than do the picking, while love continues to stuff its vast nature inside of endless forms all day and night, forming one long timeless song. this is a bliss poem. august gets radiant. sliding down cellar doors into a playroom. oh wait, that just got dark. funny how the shadows slip in. eros is wafting into my skin. hopping from lily pad to lily pad in the underworld, aint no big thing. freedom is bringing love to all of it. that’s all there is to it. the words are redundant. so this blog is a repetition of sorts. a simple homage. finis. now i shall tend to my day like usual. yoga, grocery shopping, art making, and whatever happens as night falls. love mundane and love beautiful….