A Strange Coming Home

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There's a kind of hush
The hum of life
It's always on
She was dearly beloved !
I simply called her "Aunty"
And the only one I had and could to speak to about the awakening
We walked with each other
As we fell through ourselves
She walked with me and talked with me... even when she didn't quite get what I was speaking about
She'd had glimpses so there was a recognition of her own heart song... and her questions kept me grounded... when I was falling
I'd have walked into the sunset if it hadn't been for her
Instead I found myself walking back into the dream as the dream... wherefrom I'd never left
Surprisingly... I have never felt any sense of loss... even as she's long gone now
That fullness
Is me
Even as the emptiness
Is she
Who me
Who she
It was a coming into Tao
Sometimes gentle... sometimes not so gentle
Like that click of those balancing rocks when they fall into place
A return to innocence
Which had never really left
But yes... it is a loss of everything
Even love
Yet this love
Aaaahhhh
It's intuited unicity
We were mirrors of each other
Mirrors of our own love and emptiness
The light dancing in between
It was a right of passage
I reflected back to her the emptiness
And she was reflecting the fullness back to me
We were mirroring each other's emptiness and fullness
Specially towards the end... mid 2011
The fullness was coming gushing in here... and my heart was sinking... knowing I'd never left the dream
And she was coming face to face with her own emptiness
It was gut wrenching and devastating for both of us
And yet it had a searing fierce beauty
It was a quiet love that had come into it's own
Coming full circle and smacking itself in a kiss most sublime
Wonderful how lives are intertwined in all our stories
She was my story
As I was hers
Tears
I visited her late April of 2011... a few months before she passed away
We hardly spoke for those couple of days that I was with her
I'd sit by her bedside holding her frail hand in mine
Even as the round-the-clock nurses
Went in and out of the room
Doing their thing
There really was nothing left to say
We'd look into each others' eyes
Even as a sublime melancholy descended
There was a strange coming home
To this
Where we'd never left
And a peace beyond description
There were no separate things... objects
There simply were none
Even to be separate or not
It's a total melt down
Left me feeling strangely complete... or whole... and any words I could use would fall short by a million miles
There was no one to have been broken
Nor had ever been
It was an utter collapse and relief incomparable
What once looked liked sitting on a knife's edge... now feels like dancing on a feather
The emptiness and the fullness
I can no more tell where one begins and the other ends
And these songs sing themselves
A songbird
Cooing in the woods
- MAI's blog
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