sexualityissacred

cant'spaceinmytitlesdon'tknowwhy.

anyway, these words from a politician - Obama.
a first to my ears, from the podium.
eveyone talking about Joe the Plumber.
this is what stuck with me.
we wouldn't even need to talk about values if we understood this -- without, of course, insisting on with whom, for whom, or why - just honoring the gift, miracle and presence of/moment with another.

do we have to make everything a commodity to relieve ourselves from the unbearable burden of respect?

synchronicities.... so many. i carry your heart

nts: the settling of the covered bowl in my washing bucket. last bubbles. in fact, totally outdone, violent, extravagant and alarming, but here, just cruising the internet for something totally other and finding - utterly out of place, so weirdly, one of my eecummings poem for her that, as with Vati's "Air" did for a decade, fills my world when I least expect it, lest I forget- how could you both think I could (insulting, a bit, to the life of constant reocurrence that I live):
but still...quiet:



i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


e.e. cummings