Kundalini burning

The spiraling heat drills through me,

unnoticed, until it raises its ferocious head

and peaks through my mouth.

What does it see?

A world of empty, with a few sparkling lights guiding the way.

Where will we go?

Anywhere, it says.

You feed me,

you breath me,

you send me out into the world.

I see what you want me to see.

I hear what you want me to hear.

I express what you want me to express.

Do not fear me, for I am the essence of everything that is or will be.

Guide me with your hands and lift me with your tongue.

So, I lift my tongue and raise it to the light.

I spit out what I can and cradle it with my hands, keeping it warm,

until I am free.

 

Melanie Maslaniec, All Rights reserved

 

 

Will I ever return

Will I ever return, or will I stay here wading in mud.

Will I wander through foreign streets, finding nothing but familiar scenes of deluded paranoia.

Or will I emerge, like a worm out of the fresh earth, and see the sun as it is, crawling through the mud, to reach the end of time as we know it.

Until then I will sit in the dark, wondering how the sun’s rays will ever fill my soul.

Until then I will feel cold concrete on my toes, like shoes that no longer fit.

I will continue to stumble through the streets of my heart, a desolate place that does not hear my yearning, until the seat of my soul catches fire and rises again, rises above all that seems natural, all the seams fake and all the shines without true light.

Will I ever return.

 

Melanie Maslaniec, All rights reserved