Mothering perichoresis


In the morning with open
smile here is a soul as deep
as the calm presence of a
lake here since Cro-Magnon man
breath-halting, magnificent
tender as infant-prayer
and irrepressibly kind
quiet charisma giving
and echoing the knowing
radar-song of dolphins in

Sound – revelling in giving
themselves to the journey and
each to other – becoming
themselves and vivifying
a mind’s-eye painting thereby –
fluent fluid expansion
of the flowing part of each –
shining and murmuring as
growing all three surge and arch

At morning she calls to a
sportsman and smiles upon a
dancer and they’re nourished
and sustained and will grow and
glow in her light and the call
of a Wisdom who gives her
all for that becoming and
I am touched to my own depths –
far-away but inward-close
to love’s perichoresis


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