dancing the mandala


when i tried to draw your picture

the chalk in my hand slipped,

and the image appeared lob-sided

nowhere near to my imagining of You

but now i see that it is You

who does the drawing,

always imagining a me

which i cannot seem to see.

from the depths of yourself you have drawn me,

into this space and time

this place

that once seemed so far from your center

but Love it is You

who has been guiding

my hand along this page

though I could not see the purple of yourself

embrace my red

each moment of my being,

e’en on the farthest edge,

this place where ifeel so far from your center,

You are there,

dancing me in ceaseless spirals ‘cross this page

and now, my Love, at last

from this ecstasy of being

you draw me back inot yourself

a spinning vortex inot which i blissfully surrender

astonishing my self

for it feels not at all like loss

to be lost within

these whorling depths of You.

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