Wordless

 


and then she came to the wordless place;

where every question was answered
before it finished asking itself,

and the butterflies turned into cocoons…

where each face was the face
of the beloved,

and the tender-eyed doe invited the
hunter in for afternoon tea…

it was here that she knew
she had always known,

she was the very blood
pulsing through the heart of eternity...

it was here that she saw
the sparkling matrix
that lay under
the parade of her longing…

and it was here that she fell;
into a deep wakefulness
from which she would never sleep,

and all night long
the sun kept rising,

and the fireflies whispered
unimaginable beauty
into her ear,

and in her soft repose
and quiet alertness,
her psyche sighed;
at this gorgeous quenching
of her thirst

sacred thread words & image © Heather Rhodes at  Studio Petronella
model: jane