This blog was originally posted on February 3, 2014, was Blog #1, and written by Larry Kozoyed.
I remain honored indeed blessed when in those challenging times in life even death when the Presence finds special ways to heal those who are hurting.
The poem which follows comes almost directly and verbatim from a dream which I experienced some years ago and several days before I wrote it down. It was by far one of the most passionate and explicit messages I had ever experienced in all of my days of dream recollection, journaling, and analysis. It was so gutsy that I almost kept it to my self for several months while I attempted to understand and transform its imagery and symbolism so that I could respond to its authentic meaning for me.
The story was so explicit I easily committed it to memory as I wrote it down. I just couldn’t let go of it and I was feeling quite guilty even thinking about such sensuous activities as my beloved wife and I were processing our challenges with her metastatic breast cancer, a disease which would take her physical life within the next eight months.
The revelation of the mystery behind the curtains of this dream brought a beauty to the process which we had yet to experience even as we moved closer and closer to her personal process of transformation from body into spirit.
So as I would be sharing this reality with a few close friends, know that my perception of the deep connection between my Joy In Spirit we shared, consider the metaphors and compare human desire with Divine Passion. I would invite anyone to meditate on these symbolic words and images and perhaps share in an intuition of endless reality, One of both objective reality and spiritual passion just as two who would be sharing in a life long relationship approach the time when they think they may be parting in the flesh and will soon be sharing a new life together even though one remains in the flesh and the other in the spirit.
Entering the Darkness; Finding the Light
It’s late in the day
Sundown is quite alive with color
Creation’s view is delightful
If I could only see and feel the Presence in this light
Not only with eyes.
But fully feel it
From deep heart.
Be there to behold.
The ridges of a nearby shopping plaza
Morph a mountain vista in the distance
Perhaps I am walking home
My entrance is at the back corner of the parking lot
There is a cafe’ at the left side
A music studio on the right
As I enter I shake the water from my shoes
From the water puddles which dotted the parking area
Perhaps from a recent shower.
It all feels so misty clean.
My questionable delay in
Visiting the music studio
Was quickly quashed
As I hear from resonant depths
Patsy Cline singing “Crazy”
A sensual soulful sound
Actually coming from a jute box
As I enter the Cafe’.
I enter the café and order a sandwich
and a coffee to go.
“Boston” . . . I say.
In a little while
She brings the sandwich delivered on a plate.
At this moment, synchronistically I hear Willie
Author of Patsy’s song now blending, singing together.
Meanwhile, I gently I remind her
that I wanted the order to go.
So . . . she brings me the sandwich
a paper cup filled with well creamed coffee
placed into a small bag.
As she hands me the bag
With her other hand
She reaches over the counter
Offerings me a very gentle
Incredibly sweet and soulful
Touch to my cheek.
I am almost smitten
I cannot resist
I return her touch.
Yet . . . quickly my motion is to go to the door
As I do . . . I turn around
And find her giving me this look
A look I cannot deny
So I go back to where she is standing.
Waiting for the next
Breath of Light
We hold each other closely
Yet in a very gentle embrace.
The kiss is soft and sweet.
But again . . . remaining in denial
I am seeking, turning . . . for the door
Yet not able to truly deny this precious moment
We join again
Sharing a very deep and as we hold each other closely
We enjoy a warmer, longer kiss.
I attempt to go back to the door
but I just can’t deny this moment as we enfold
and share a very deep intimate kiss.
As we both unfold breathless
I am stunned as if slain in the Spirit.
“Am I standing
Or on the floor.”
Yet still my head
Is back . . . seeking once more
To find the door.
Again I head for the door.
She calls to me . . .
“ I’m getting off work now . . .
Will you wait for me?”
I say nothing
But now she has full knowledge in her heart
That I will wait . . .
We must not part.
Moments later as we walk thru the puddles
Outside in the parking lot
Our path takes us to an adjoining field
Containing a spirial string
Of miniature dwellings converging to a center.
As we approach
That central still point
We stop . . .
As if to take stock.
She says . . .
“This is my place
Perhaps a time to for us to enter . . .
After all it’s nine o’clock.”
© LWK 2005