Linda Cohen's Luminous Lotus Blog

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Real Time

Between 1st and 2nd Avenues: East Village NY

Photo by Cherry Cohen


by Cherry Cohen - 6/19/15

Life happens in between ~~~
Real Time interludes and iridescent white light intersections where we simply follow
Our inner Monarch
Butterflies…’Ore astral fields of laughing red Pink Lady apples, French lavender purple crowns
Calypso be- bright yellows, sea-foam flourite crystal greens.  Cresting waterfalls of shimmer rainbow
Threads of auto-pilot minds dissolve.  No focus.  No Bull’s Eye.  No! Stirring left
Brain graphs of tumbling Dows.  No static, no conflict, no knit pick, nor wrongs.
You Are.

Only last month.  One.  Month.  To the day…
My mother gently slipped out of her ragged, skeletal, failing human form
So quietly, half here, half there –
4 million sky dancing Dakinis filled their sacred dancing on a dime and diamond -
Soft still hospital room when they learned of Her
Imminent Essence Birth.  Bardo bound.  Swooping in from Tibetan mountain range
And rock they, in less than an instant flew, fitting on the circle of a Shasta daisy mandala
On a perfect May afternoon over-looking the pitch green tree tops
Of Central Park, a breathless in her chamber, tomb, window open wide to the petal sky –
My mother took a breath, a slow and very tentative breath?
(I am sure she wondered can I let go now?  Am I ready?)  And true to her brave nature –
Up and slowly over her passing self, checking the room, feeling the love
Her fresh spring flowers…a stillness I have never know enraptured us, me, my daughter
And Anna her caregiver as we surrendered too we let go to find the crest of the moment’s
Motion- took a breath, inhale, exhale, as Fifth Avenue below had never been so beautiful, regal, potent
A panorama of a silent Central Park opening her arms to All that IS…Shall Be.

My brother came shortly, Her only son, from work of course, her favorite.  I’ve
No doubt why.  His gentle humorous way with uber-power, his “why not!” hazel eyes ``
So I told my mom Richie’s here and though her breath left nearly a half-hour since
She struggled to open her right eye and tried to see if she could peek –speak ?
She found him there, turned her obedient head and got back to her business
Of leaving.

I rearranged the flowers she loved, lilac, butter yellow freesia, sunset pink peonies
Around her pale neck, bodice, and peaceful warrior face and we just sat there (my brother stood)
In the silence of a tear dropping.  A new golden horizon rising.  It was O ver IT had just
Begun.  We locked in our memories.  Click.  Click.  Click.  So time flew
Out this window where we said goodbye, good day, good travels where the intentions
Of our passings seed a simpler path we will never know where
Time went nor the giggling e.t.a.   But felt Mother’s Milk silky sure
We are always invited as the clock fingers stretched we never closed

The door.