Uh-oh or Ah-ha?

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Uh-oh or Ah-ha?

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Uh-oh or Ah-ha?

Details: Thursday, 30 March 2023; Written by Eve Moore; Views: 1955

Uh-oh or Ah-ha?

The idea

is the thing.

A revelation in the

new day bend of candle

light, bath salted and sweet,

owls caterwauling

just beyond.

The I “dea,”

a nod to god the

mother as

I AM.

Not as opposed

to deus, just the

other softer

side of it.

Not commanding,

rather compelling

who, what, how,

I might be,

even as

I am.

Benevolent,

this energy.

Generative, open.

Receiving.

Fecund.

Life as it is lived,

as in, actually engaged.

Entered into.

Forming itself round,

from its vibratory emissions,

its emanations, whether low

or high frequency.

Waves of an

open sea.

Different from thought,

but not altogether

apart from it.

The ideation

ever forming itself

into being. Of itself.

In itself. For itself.

As me. As you.

As here.

It is not the dross

of ‘program,' that litter

accumulated in our

be/coming our

selves.

Eon after eon.

That is what stands

in the way of the

novel venture

into the as

yet know

able.

As knowing

can be able to

know in a way that

cannot be measured

by tools and conventions

— minds over matters —

merely by dovetails

cut just so in the

grain of our

wood.

Meeting

other

grains.

Just so.

It’s

more a

surfacing

as a dolphin,

an orca, a

cormorant

after a

dive.

A peeper

lifting its

vernal

voice

from

a long

winter’s

stillness.

An anemone

feeling for

the sun

with

her

supple

readiness.

A delve

only to

emerge.

Food, yes,

the impetus,

in all the ways

we feed and

are fed.

We can find

pleasure in the

nourishment, or

distraction, and its

impoverishment.

It is ever

a choice.

If I eat

therefore

I am, I’ve

missed the

point entirely.

The point,

crystalline,

present, is but

a moment.

Brimmed

only with

what is

potent/ial.

What’s possible?

That’s what we’re

here to find

out from

deep

with

in.

All that

has been

done has

been, what

might be

done?

Show

me.

Life speaking.

And its terms

are these:

live.

And

let

live.

Uh-oh,

ah-ha, ends

of the spectrum.

A spectrum

we are

all on.

For

all

time.

Threat, danger

isolation is bred in

one end’s response: fear;

curiosity, connection,

expansion bred

in the other.

Let’s call it

a love response.

Either way,

both teach.

Ends.

And both

lead inexorably

to the range that

lives between

distal poles.

Once we

recognize

that it is

of one,

we be

come

one.

Just

life.

Life

is a

living

thing.

This is

the big

idea.

Light.

Ah.

That most

incandescent

of bulbs.

Which cannot

be put in a box.

Enclose it,

put a lid on it,

boundaries

and walls

around

it and

it is

not

light.

So.

What

to make

of clay?

Piping

and roof

tiles, vessels

and sculpture

— art.

Given

breath.

Now it's

lightning

in a bottle.

I believe

when I fall

in love with

you it’ll be

forever…

—Stevie Wonder

∞/∞

Eve Moore: Once a professional writer of advertising, I saw the light & it has shown me words of a different nature. And so I take them down & offer them up. And all is well.

For more of Eve Moore's amazing and heart centered poetry and writings, click here!
http://www.crystalwind.ca/eve-moore

“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
—Jimi Hendrix

This poem/prose was submitted exclusively to CrystalWind.ca by Eve Moore.

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