WOMB OF TWINFLAME BEGINNING


In delicious Womb of all beginnings
we learnt to giggle electrons
to bear all things
without nusturtiums, pink lilies or doughnuts
warm gurglings of God’s dream for us

Morning glories were waiting
on Earth, as were waves
trickling tears, camel caravans
meditation chambers, prison cells

We knew not of Monadic eggs
searing pain or Split-souls
neither of Solar eclipses or
random moon calendars
mind was grid free

Just twirled tickling HIS
desires on how to wear our hair
or present ourselves on descent
It was our own desires
petering back and forth
as we curled protons around
each other’s potions

Fasting, food or fiction, politicians or poets
such did not exist in
Womb of all beginnings

No Ts to cross or pottage to prepare
only a smooth in and out of HIS
breath as spectre spectrums
of delicate dedication making toenail
patterns in fallopian winds
whirling eerily

Waiting for a dandelion thread
meant learning to listen for stardust
before they glimmering shone
on Milky Way as dragon
wings wooed webbed witches

Linen shirts were far away
in horizons deep down or behind or before
Time was Eternal
Stone tablets on which were written stories
we cared not to decipher though
figurines enthrallingly called


All was nothing in this still
beginning of all beginnings
where we felt one another without
space between
wrinkle swam in microcosms of pitch
to fathom HIS voidness


Touch HIS encircling hum heave
mounds, waiting as breath
softly sting sing silent, our moistness
glistening around bodies emerging
vague in distant futures unsolidified
after guns were bonfired in bushes
or madhouses melted in momentum
past, present, future One


In HIS stillness we placated electrons
from leaping toward one another
HE assented our Belovedness to
weave high-pitch frequencies on a
Blue Planet lifting itself
foreshadowing IPhone portraits
of enticements for us to know
that we could, if we wished
we had free will

dissolve all vedanas
into thin air, dance with autumn
leaves in Africa South or
spring blossoms in America North
or sprawling glistening
mansions waiting empty on
Andromedan gardens


In this Womb of all beginnings
no thing to smell or taste, ponder
no restless quantum jumps
planes to catch or constellations to
explore or what to call ourselves
on someone else’s screen was a
scream we cared not to hear
or discern somewhere in
brain neural networks, not yet
neutered


Making of marrow slow or fast it did not
merrily matter since open and close
was one inexplicable blank blind beginning
where we could play hide-seek
so safely silently knowingly


In Womb of all beginnings
as spindly spines tangled then untangled
spooky synchronic signs lay beckoning
as distant vasting visions on
vistas of veritable wisdom
our pink palm centres exchanged
silver webs weaving chakras to later align


Chattering light bubbles curled
designing lips for smiling, eating
we knew not what dust or juice
HE could not decide on fruit
or sand, octopus and ivory
said we could have all we wished
this was the Creation instant


Care we did not, it was just too snug
growing of a beard whisked onto
an emerging speck in HIS belly
yours or mine, female or male
or both or none ?
Cosmic Womb clear yet indecipherable

Snug and warm to leave we must
Obey HIS command to touch
roots of pine, birch, cow dung
how to hold a crutch or feed a baby
stroke a wrinkle or hasten a
New Dawn
An injunction to open a pale rose
exuding a faint new octave rebirthing

Up into His throat we swam
out in a slow steady breath
onto two shimmering threads of goodbyes
We were gone !

No other womb can contend…



©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song
2024