wrapping and rocking

 

 

the two nude figures sit in

time and space.

one upon the other.

rocking together.

rocking in their cave.

 

two magic figures

rocking together against time.

rocking back through time.

back and forth.

 

mother rocking her baby.

rocking against sickness and tears.

rocking back into love and peace.

 

in the cave,

unseen except by the spirits,

the holymen rock out of this reality

of personal isolation of greys.

rock until they rock

into the pulse of pure light.

back and forth until at-one-ness came,

until atonement came...

not just for them...

but those outside the cave.

magic rocking.

passion rocking.

almost sexual,

not quite...

very sexual...

beyond sexual.

 

two bodies rocking together,

rubbing isolation away.

 

grandpa sits in his rocking chair,

slowly holding onto creaking passion of living.

lovers dance,

rocking back and forth to the music.

sometimes fast.

sometimes slow.

passion rises warm and comforting.

pain and grief disappear.

a kid holding onto a blanket,

rocks back and forth,

holding onto the wrapping

that holds us all together.

colorful ribbons of our cocoon.

the 2 lovers pumping

hard on the swing, working together

to get the highest

thrilling flying and swooshing drop

on their bellies

and, yes,

in their loins.

almost sexual,

but not quite....

very sexy...

beyond sex.

mere sex would get

in the way of

the child-like melting

of earth and sky.

back and forth,

up and down,

wrapping us together

in brightness

and softness

and the magical commonness.

 

a girl laughs

on a big old rocking horse.

a g.i. holding his guts in,

blood oozing out,

rocks on the battlefield...

rocks to keep life in

and pain out.

 

light pulses,

reflected off tin and plastic.

 

daddy rocking baby to sleep on his lap.

cozy togetherness in ribbons,

rocking by the fire

far away from reality.

 

the arab woman,

on her knees beside

the unrecognizable remains of her husband

rocking to handle grief and pain.

a crazy rocks

on the street corner,

talking to beings from another reality.

wrap us up cozy.

wrap us warmly.

maypole dancers with ribbons.

admit that we all are wrapped up together

in see-through ties.

 

the gypsy woman,

eyes closed,

rocks back and forth,

giving master spirits

her voice and her body

to speak through.

rocking in her tent.

 

the boys rocking

uncontrollable from laughter

at their childish pranks.

 

rocking surrealistic in the darkness,

in their colorful bonds,

the two nude figures,

using magical passion to melt together,

rock like the blind,

like the insane,

like the holy men,

like lovers...

and the magical melting spreads out of the cave

and into the world.

 

© Frank Moore 1986-2002

 

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