singing for the beloved

singing for the Beloved, you said -

so I sat at the top of the mountain, and I sang for the Beloved, looking at the sun and praying,

praying for the wound of separation, the core wound

praying for reconciliation.

my heart is cracking open — again, and I know more of myself.

my heart is broken again and I have to remember they all are 

little boys and girls, 

impersonating the Beloved.

— and none of us knows what we are doing.

and I sing for the Beloved, again, I sing, and it is not loud —

a whisper, a thread at the top of the hill — a vibration to say the grief.

I sing — an offering to the thousands of years of men who walked that path to the temple, 

to pray — to offer — to live and die — and here we are again.

Beloved, I sing your name, 

and there are many of them

Beloved, I sing in the memory of your face

and you have many

Beloved, 

your name, your face, your form 

doesn’t matter.

and I wonder,

can we be human 

and divine 

at the same time?

can we — integrate the Holy with the Mundane,

the Sacred with the Body-mind,

the wounds of suffering and the waves of ecstasy?

can we — love and be loved?

I am part of this lineage.

I am part of 

a lonely path,

Warrior of love,

Temple architect,

a remembering.

what is the name?

what are you, 

Beloved?