When love matures it brings you to greater and greater challenges, longer stretches, stretches that arms can not hold. Arms can not hold anything of such an uncaused nature. Love uses itself to realize itself in all places and in all things. At each threshold there is a deepening of surrender, the agony of letting go of that which is forever coming and forever going, in Loves own time. Each time loves yearning meets loves yearning in the so called other, it’s invisible nature sweeps you off your feet, peering through all partial measures of its infinite capacity, beckoning you to stand firm in its continuous force without an image, without a picture, or a story that dampens it’s wonder, it’s glory. Without a memory of what it looked like, felt like, was hoped to be in a dream long ago. The multitude of reflections serve to unlock loves purest potential to dance you, wear you, and shine as loves one face. It is most natural for all of these images to pass through the lens of awareness, so the mouth can speak it, the body can feel it, the nose can smell it, the heart can touch it, and true love can heal it. True love does not connect us, it is already fully connected, it is the underlying wholeness of infinity. It is our true home. No one can add to this or take from this. It is our only true power, a power that delights and strengthens when shared with others. It is the destroyer of illusion. It is the song that has always been waiting without waiting, and dancing without dancing, in the field of emptiness. So please, put on your dancing shoes, or take them off, love just lost her eyes, her nose, her memory, her toes-all false, all old. It’s time to slip out beneath the moon lit stars and listen for that which is singing now.

Listen for a fraction of a moment and you will hear her echo through the cave of your naked aloneness.

Prajna