within the folds of her holy dress

In the folds of your dress
your holy garment
I bury my head
Smelling the sweet fragrance of your love
My little hands hidden in the layers of fabric
I try to be consumed and folded into your dress
I want to disappear into your being-ness
I pull up a fold and surround myself with silken fabric
Soft and giving, silky and strong
It is dark like your skin
and in these folds I can imagine
All the world is well and
I hear your soothing voice
speaking words of grace-filled wisdom

Passionate Soul #24 – Love Letter

There are different forms of activism. And I think that those on the front lines of suffering, and those suffering, benefit in some metaphysical way from those us who dance for healing – who paint for transformation – who make chicken soup for family members – who garden to bring healing to the earthy – who do yoga bring world peace. Does it sound -oh-so-california?