At the Shores of Night

I open my arms to accept, to receive, to welcome this impossibly gentle touch, this impossibly gentle weight.

I open my arms and my heart opens almost as if by mistake. It lifts something of me. It pulls me into its immense reality that seems to erase every other thought, every other doing. It moves in strange ways. My body begins to merge with the quietude; with the solitude; with the loneliness of this long, long night.

I don’t know how long I’ve been doing this. I don’t know how many times I have dissolved myself––merged into it. I no longer know the difference between the ocean blue and the starry sky. I no longer know the difference between the shadows behind and the mind that swerves and moves with the rhythm of the sound of the ocean.

At this moment of realization I find myself before an ocean of light and movement. I find myself at the shores at the edge of creation where dark and light are indistinct, where the depth of the ocean and the height of the heavens are one, where the suffering of my eternal existence and the joy of the presence of the beloved have become one, where death and life are movements of the same dance, where the external ocean and the inner ocean of light dissolve their boundaries.

I no longer fight her presence; for there is no one to fight, nothing to change, no distinctions, no boundaries, no real, no illusion, no me, no end––only the silent consciousness in the ecstasy of love eternal, radiant and beautiful.

 

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