Los Angeles 2005: The Divinity In Me Sees The Divinity Within You

Into a pot of honey I dip a spoon, lick it, empty it
and lay it to rest upon my heart.

A sticky smell of sweet buzzes my nose.

The bees enter through my ear into my being.

They dance the dance of creation
leaving behind the pollen of their ways.

I feel their golden archives of choices –

this or that flower, red or pink, violet or blue.

My veins traffic the noise of their activity.

The carriers of fertility enduring their flights of fancy.

I travel with them within,
into my inner sanctum
the sanctuary of my being.

I watch the bees transport their golden dust,
from my head to my hands.

I shake my fingertips
until they bleed powdered patterns –

spiraled ringlets of gold,
piled-high imprints
each as unique as each of my fingerprints.

I feel the breeze carry to me images of a lifetime of imagination.

I will my body into being,
I will my spirit into my body.

Heat within awakens
and expands the farthest reaches of my consciousness.

Cold shivers my protective bubble of conviction,
my truths burst reforming my vision.

Standing here,
Bees inside me,
piles of golden dust beside me –

it is easy to turn honey into gold,
to believe in an Alchemist’s sweaty dream.

Into a pot of honey I dip a spoon, lick it, empty it
and lay it to rest upon my heart.

The warmth of my flesh melts the spoon.

I feel the liquid metal seep into my blood stream.

The taste of steel beads the grooves of my tongue.

I bend my shape, a chameleon of change and transformation.

It is easy to open the senses to receive the blessings of enchantment –

graceful love balanced on the compassionate inner edges of sanity.

Creation has smiled the sticky sweetness of the infinite into being.

I see the Divine catch its breath and forge the earthen fibers of existence.

The sound of Divinity smells like the watery thunder of feminine surrender.

The touch of Divinity tastes like the fiery lightening of masculine surrender.

The Divinity in me sees the Divinity within you. 

~ Other People's Fingerprints ~
Sometime around 1952 Max Ehrmann wrote,
“Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
You are a child of the universe,
no less that the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labours and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul”

Photographs by Karin Lisa Atkinson