This Surrender is Forever.


And so she sat in a sea of sun and the faint plumes of incense smoke

There was nothing left to prove

There was nothing to do

There was nothing to push ahead for—

And this, this was a swift, steady blossoming

To a sort of lusciousness she had never known

But had always hoped for. 

This surrender is forever

It is a great bow 

Towards the pulse of the universe felt in her feet as they kissed and made love to the fresh blades of vivid springy green grass

Towards the songs of her heart—obscure, soft, weird, wild, sweet, windy, stormy, fiery, all of it

It is a great bow

Towards love, towards death, towards becoming

Towards unifying

All of the lost and scattered bits 

And away from the fear and doubt she had known so intimately.

And so, she had to hold herself really, really gently. 

There had to be room for pools, sapphire pools

For her tears to drip down, like rain

And consolidate in an ocean 

Of wholeness

That dripped and drenched

Where she could float and soak

Basking there

Because everything just was. 

There was nothing to force. 

To fix. 

To try. 

This surrender is forever. 

And it would change the rest of her life

And sure, there would be days filled with doing, with the sweet hum of fresh activity

But in her heart

There would be softness

There would be silence

There would be this lush, growing forest of peace

And this

She finally understood  

This was


It was so solid and real. 

It was raw, too. 

She sunk into the solidity of her body, feet, legs, arms, chest, belly, neck, and head

Wholeness reigns now 

And it was not a loud transformation

It was not showy or worthy of a crowd’s applause.

But it felt so good

It was a precious echo in the vast hills of the universe, carved just for her. 

It felt like twirling around, holding the stardust truth of her own vibrating soul. 

It was a leap—the changing tides of an old frantic, fearful pace

That if she stopped, she wasn’t good enough

That if she stopped, she was worth nothing

So she leapt

By slowing her movements

Wayyy downnnnn.

Oh yes.

And sinking into the plushness of an ocean blue chair. 

There she emerged, in fullness.  

A mermaid. 

And she said

“I just want to be draped in poetry

Like strings of seaweed

That are plucked sweet, like a luscious red wine.'“