They All Speak

They all speak

about an ecstatic Love,

embellished with rainbows and butterflies,


blue sky,

and wedding-music.

And I am here

with my pained red rib-cage torn apart,

open-wide, to the fingers of my Select Pianist.

Like a Master and its Piano –

I am ready to perform the Great Song,

in Union with the Divine and with Myself.

I am here – all – blood and thorns.

Re-enacting a violent Crucifixion

that is followed by a majestic Resurrection!

-Not a beautiful view!

-Not what you want!

But – authentic.

Killing the Mask.

Bearer of Self-Love.


Poem: Tamara Solomon

Image: Salvador Dali, ‘Christ of Saint John of the Cross’



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