The Name of the Friend

My heartbeat is the name of the Friend.
My inbreath is Sophia, the wisdom-mother 
who danced with the Almighty 
when the world was made.
My outbreath is Mary, 
who covers the earth with her blue-green 
mantle of compassion.
Between breathing out and breathing in,
a timeless empty bindhu, 
smaller than a dust mote.
I think it is a portal to the un-created,
pouring forth the suns of God
in petaled tiers, braided hosts of galaxies, 
spiraling hierarchies, angels untamed, 
feral creatures of dark energy 
more vast than supernovae
plunging through waves of the void 
on fins of fire, bearing gifts 
of awful loveliness, the faces of children
about to be born on the new earth.
I sink into this hollow between breaths 
because I am not afraid of loss, 
of annihilation, of beauty.
And I know it is a place 
deeper within me than I Am.
I gaze into the gaze that creates me.
An amethyst resting in a flame
burning at the center of the golden rose
in my chest.
Here is where I keep the name a secret,
my heartbeat.
Yet I tell you this rhythm ripens 
all who walk on two legs or four, 
who fly on wings, who swim, 
who green down through roots or
rise up through wonder into higher 
worlds that are all inside my body.
This is not a poem.
This is not a lie. 

* Image: a page from our new book, 'Rest In The Heart' LINK