Poetry. Moonology. Mystics.
EMPTY with the Gibbous Moon. The sages call for distance.
Separation for clear vision. Space to glean perspective.
Distance, distance, distance yourself. Without bitterness or resistance.
Just to gaze awhile, softly releasing and reflective.
Just to stand a pace away to see the broader view—the emotional fluctuations and the vast miracle that surrounds you.
The wild, wild miracle of being as it surges from the stars above...from the soils below.
Distance your self from the spectacle; empty, empty, letting go—because space makes the heart grow fonder.
Empty with the Gibbous Moon. The mystics call for distance.
Distance breeds desire, they say. Desire to be near.
Passionate longing to know—to see, to touch, to hear.
Just to stand a pace away. To realize (to remember):
YOU BELONG HERE.
A Reflection of the Ramayana by R.R. Shakti, PhD
Incarnate to serve the dharma,
here I am again.
As the monkey god serves Rama
as a confidant, a friend.
He, the base of Cosmic Order;
the mysterious of deep.
I am only Nature’s daughter:
grain, leaf, droplet, particle, sheep.
He is Infinite Potential,
and his favor is my boon.
He’s the ever resting, always hidden, light of the new moon.
With his love I can move mountains,
and heal the ails of Earth.
I can leap across the ocean,
sing the beauty of my birth.
Infinite is my true nature
and sweet victory, my right.
My body: the bridge of Union.
My eyes reflect the Light.
By grace, dharma embraces me.
By grace, I tame the beast.
I can slay a slew of demons,
and the dragon lay to waste.
And I AM the dragon.
CRASH, CLASH, CLAMOR, STAGGER, STRUT
rape and pillage
slave to anger
blind with longing
Blind with Longing
LUST, RAGE, DENIAL, HOPELESS, GRAVE
CLINGING, CRUEL, LOST, FEARED AND FEARFUL.
DREADED, WICKED, NEEDY SLAVE.
Slave to Anger
I steal away the Joy
SPLURGE, PURGE, GIMME, GIMME, GRIP!
SELFISH, STICKY, TRICKY, DEATH.
WICKED, LONELY, ROTTEN, WASTED.
I cultivate misfortune
and sew seeds of seething pain.
All I know is Separation.
I AM VAIN.
I AM VAIN.
I AM VAIN.
I seek the silence.
With the truth of Love eclipsed.
I take the true king’s shelter;
bare my chest, release my grip.
The life, it courses through me.
And I also AM that Light.
Grace lies within the balance
of surrender and the fight.
So’Ham Nama Shivaya;
sacred dance and cosmic play.
The hide and seek continues through the night and every day.
Purpose lies in imperfection:
mantra, meter, rhythm, rhyme.
I am nothing ever, always.
I am everything, in time.
And so from this fertile soil,
with no beginning and no end.
I am formed to serve the dharma.
and yes, here I am again.
With the twisted wrath of Ravana,
and Hanuman’s pure heart;
I am destined to rejoin lovers.
And I am the demon who keeps them apart. ||
Dharma: A Reflection of the Ramayana
R.R. Shakti, Oct. 1, 2010
I found the poetry, above, in some old files.
I wrote it almost a decade ago, and I am amazed at how far I've traveled just to realize where I am. WHO I am.
As I continue to realize that all archetypes–all God Image AND all shadow reside within me,
I discover a whole new level of "free."
I decide, every moment, HOW I want to be who I want to be.
In the words of Joni Mitchell, "I've looked at Love from both sides now,"
–and no matter how the story goes, Love ultimately wins.
R.R. Shakti, PhD
What would it look like to release all my fears?
...because that's what was happening. That's what I felt.
But the moment was greedy for my full attention
—no projection, just tears
tears, and rocking, and shaking, and heart melt
like heat and cold mixing and swirling around--
alchemy in the half-light of a medicine more profound than I had even imagined.
And was I imagining freedom?
...Come back to the breath, to the completion of
"in it right now!"
Imagining the moon's face over the sun.
Imagining shadows like tendrils of smoke, ribbons of silk
dancing their way to the inner circle of darkness
while a radiant ring promised emergence of fearlessness
...And all along returning and returning and returning
to my body and the breath and the images of Marley's dream--
where, there, the mermaid of white
points to a sunken ship and gravely proclaims:
"It mustn't be stopped."
Oh! What treasures must hide inside.
About The Author
R.R. Shakti, PhD
Founding teacher of Inner Power Yoga®, Shakti is a Contemplative Mythologist, ritual facilitator, and writer who presents a Tantrik approach to personal empowerment and social action. Through contemplative story-telling and mind/body practices, she offers a vision of deep peace and radical freedom.
PSYCHE + SOUL