Its is like you have been holding your breath for centuries, a spirit dormant beneath the ice, awakening to a thaw like some signal from a still distant sun….a cosmic messenger leaking out through all eventualities.  This thaw is in no way limited and is building powerful thresholds.  In this time, in this place, in all places.  It is what is.

But that is the clean version.

We are returning to love.  I am. The trembling lips of its knowing sleeps within each of you, but can slowly wake up as the petals of its bloom peel back like an eager lover of the sun for a still deeper opening to what can no longer be denied.  This love is not a love for anything, but a living presence that is a compelling mystery that keeps its secret on my lips, changes my gait, and changes my smile.  It warms the cold, brings day into night, and embraces me with a  persistent current that invades every aspect, every cell, body, soul, spirit, mind, body, heart, and loin.  It has entirely invaded every corner, every piece and shred of me, burning away the dross like a tender but persistent lover, to return me to a powerfully potent presence, to make me ready for the union with its rich source of life.  Its desire melts me, boiling and refining, I am made to rain down like a summer storm.  It shows me the way of lightening and thunder as my essence rains down upon her waiting lips. The whole earth becomes like this.  Every atom contains Her, every shadow, every stolen moment, everything that is has its compliment that is the other half of the presence that makes things real, manifest.  I see and feel their dance in everything around me as it seemed to awaken just as I did.  I think though I was just a later arrival to a gathering of soulfulness that has been on since the beginning of things.

When I woke, the world woke with me.  The breeze carried it, rich and potent, dizzying in pleasure.  Pollen was thick in the air, its nutty smell invaded my senses and reminded me that all life is like this, even if nature speaks in a language mute to our normal senses.  It was the single greatest gift one could have received; my soul now pulsed with a  life so strong that it would leave many red faced and gasping.  Passion moved through my blood like a current of fire, an ancient pathway to the Holy of Holies.  Beyond ordinary love, this was sacred fire.  It had claimed me; before all of this I was an orphan to all I had known, a pilgrim on a very different journey that did not entirely make sense.  All I had been seeking became a memory and was packed up into boxes as I lost my old life to find myself resurrected, a secret life that will come to each of us in our own perfect timing.

A brilliant kind of life lives inside of me, a golden wonder, an energy that is a visitor and guide, strong hands that never err and fills my mind with certainty and knowing.  In its hyperversal chambering, I know myself as the divine masculine, my awareness has skipped through thousands of years of error into pungent truth and brilliant illumination where nothing hidden could remain obscured, but found, revealed, atoned and blessed.  The truth in me is the truth that lives, and the truth that lives is love.  To own it is for some may be difficult, for it requires total honesty to enter into its mysteries with joy.  Anything less and it is bliss hindered by struggle.  And it is a struggle we all know and are ready for what surely must be.  And shall be.  Taken, it will keep you.  Seduced, it will show you its wonder.  It will lift you and show you what was missing from the old error-ridden religions as it banishes you from ever following in the old ways.  You will return to the religion that has no religion.  It shall be one of no laws save one, no books save its light which illuminates all books.  This is the religion of love.  It does not reflect, it does not observe, it is itself its own reward and finality moving into each moment fully present and invading everything with its rich sense of possibility.  It is nothing but pure freedom and perfect accountability, for this love would  do nothing outside of this.  But forgotten are the books and words of saints and priests, priestesses and mongrels alike.  This one light does not ask of you to be a follower, it inspires you to lead yourself to your own inevitable truth.

There wont be anything to follow.

You do not follow what you are.  And this is the rich difference.  There are lives curled up within this one.  Countless worlds shoot in and out at every second as all of their untapped potential rises into this one, all lines and paths that you were, shall be and could be all intersect in this powerful moment informed and embraced by this great passion and ecstasy.  Everything I had ever felt resistance with in me was given a new lease.  The slaveholder himself passes into his own glory and is redeemed, forgiven as the heart grows into a nearly incomprehensible wonder that cannot quit and is the source and axis of the All.

I translate this love into ordinary words and in simple ways for the uninitiated.  Purely spoke, it is like a fire that cannot burn that which is not prepared.  With compassion given to all, I am free to live my life and to sing this song that opens my soul, a great chamber bearing a bride ever-present glistening with the hope of knowing her own greater mystery.  He lips glisten in moonlight and her heart bears my name.  Her hips gently sway to the rhythm of a great inner ocean.  She knows every secret I could ever be and has made an agreement outside all of this to bring this into this world as a great gift.  In an instant all that was hidden is revealed.  All that I dreamed I became.  A silent and certain presence wells up within me, a pulse so strong.  It is a thunderbolt that swims through all things and strikes into their core, cracking them open.  The secret life of all in its dream is known.  There is nothing that cannot be known, for in this communion everything gives up itself as the universe in me seduces and enlivens the universe without in this simple knowing.  Everything yearns to be known, and if not known, then that which knows it and gives it that missing piece of its awareness, like a lost piece of some forgotten puzzle that slips seductively into place.  The universe is wed to itself in just such instances.  We undo the centuries of division that divides us from everything else and nothing is not without its capacity for this union.

I live a life rich in its simplicity.  I can sleep in beds draped in silk or on cold concrete and remain in utter bliss.  Rivers were my bath, the sun my light.  I tore away the old agreements and illusions that money could keep me or any soul could tell me anything less than what I am.  It is itself a pulse of certainty, inevitability.  I am returned to joy, my body returns to a state that is golden.  Heads turn when I moved like a slip of a ghost in a world of shadow.  Resolving brilliant around a still deeper core, I am a living presence that bears a trailing flame of passion, not profane but  profound, unexpected, nuanced,  the scent of a jungle flower.   This love ripples through me not for anything.  It is now what I am.  Its presence scatters illusion and I rest easy in its truth.  If what I am is a heresy, then lock me up for I am guilty of this one great wonder which shall always keep me free.  I shall remain free but forever bound by its passionate promise to return me to its great love.

My hands tremble now in sympathy to its pulse.  My shoulders are strengthened, my mind is made like a temple, my heart consumed by a sacred fire which fills the halls with light.  Beneath, an eternal wellspring which shall be that part of me which taps the universe, a deep thundering ecstasy which fills everything I touch with that which is true and which my soul reads as it is delivered to dream outside of illusion.  This return to love is a return to ourselves, not an abstraction or idea, but a living presence so fine, so delicate, so promised and wondrous that it shall make a lover out of all.  It has me.