Author: justinforman

The coolness of the evening flows in through open windows, caressing my skin

gently touching those places that miss hands and fingertips

the motion of the breeze creates a stillness within me, a breathless presence

Like a lover transfixed by the slowly revealed beauty of the beloved,

as clothes fall silently to the floor.

tonight the moon is my lover

silver light falling across my body

kissing skin, nibbling ears

Her teasing draws me deeper into the mystery

wanting to hold her vast beauty in my arms

to gaze deeply into her eyes

and hear the music of her voice

longing lips blow out breath 

a prayer 

an invocation to the universe to whatever gods may be listening

the unspoken words carried in that exhale – the dreams, the passion, 

The cries for release from the internal bondage – the tightness

The constriction that binds within – witholding

The deep place, the source of divinity that has been covered over 

compressed so tightly 

fearing the exposure to the world 

Fearing that it will be stolen, abused, destroyed

I release the breath that has been held 

Desperate desire to let go 

For clenched hands and jaw to finally release 

To accept life, to accept love 

I imagine the pathways inside, the systems of veins and arteries and capillaries 

Bringing life and nourishment – the sacred exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide. 

These longing lips want to speak words of beauty

words of love, words of power and healing

To breath breaths of aliveness and expression. 

These longing lips give voice to this longing heart 

This heart that wants to be touched, held, cherished and nurtured 

This heart that wants to seek its own joy – its own desire

This heart that knows what it wants that knows what is true 

Knows the love resonance

This longing skin needs touch 

Needs to be held and stroked and loved

To be caressed, kissed 

Simply for being a beautiful human

a point of divine 

Consciousness on this earth

I feel the distance of my skin from my heart

And the universal distance between my heart and her skin

My skin longs for hers – for her touch – her love her holding. 

That I could make the connection between my heart and my muscles 

To speak the words that must be spoken, to take the steps that must be taken

To trust that this skin will hold me and contain me

To become a heart skin

One that can grow the wings to lift me out of the abyss 

One that will have courage and strength

Even the daring to leave the familiar and fly into the unknown. 

That I could connect my heart to motion

This path that is laid out before me

That leads from the heart out in a delicate dance 

moving closer and closer into the skin, bringing warmth, bringing love, bringing life. 

My muscles are heart muscles, my skin is heart skin – 

I already have what I need 

just trust – just trust – let all the images fall away. 

Become like lalla – let your poetry flow out of you – drop the clothes of your ego in the streets and go naked out into the world – let yourself be loved. 

It starts with a stillness, a calming presence 

One breath follows another, building energy

breath becomes motion

within the core that is real, emergent

not identity – being.

Each new unfolding is an emergence of the self that has no name – that has no shape.

There is a knowing that can only come from the heart, from the diaphragm, from the pelvis from the knees 

tensions, conflicts, resistances

Power, resilience, liberty

To move like we want to move – no longer waiting for permission

Sensual, creative – touching

Holding ourselves like the lovers we are

Whispering to ourselves the desires we hold in our hearts

To let our bodies go – surrender into the movement that is ecstasy

I understand that I come here with particular work. Goals, dreams, aspirations. This is not a passive existence, letting life happen but a co-creation with God.

A dance of the divine, manifesting, bringing forth. Calling on all those things deep inside me that want to be born, given form and shape. 

I breathe in. Each breath a new beginning, a new inspiration, a new imagination.

Touching the deeper recesses, the corners that have not seen the light of day or the gift of presence. Breathing into those spaces, releasing, shaking loose.

The old stories, the old beliefs that keep me stuck and small, hidden away. Constricted, diseased, congested.

Exhale – toxins released. Clearing the channel for a new song to emerge. To be gods note, to sing the song of my soul.

My breath becomes deeper, slowing to a rhythmic centering, a meditation.

Breathing in love, awareness, tenderness, appreciation. For life, for love, for the gift of this divine vessel.

Thank you.

The breathing becomes a loving, tending to each cell, wakening to creation and the dance of life.

I find my purpose in my breath. Connected, present, aware. I find myself, and in that finding become a channel, a transmission. 

I have been so terrified of this embrace, knowing that the tiny ego reality that I created for myself would fall apart. Knowing that I must be willing to step off the cliff, to walk out into faith.

A life of purpose is a life of presence. To trust the intuition, to purposely lean into each new moment. To be aware and alive. 

To truly accept all that has happened. No more fighting what is, acknowledge.

I acknowledge the hate and the rage and the anger, and the love and the lust, and the longing, and the jealousy, and the murderous envy, and the grief and the despair, the beauty, and debilitating shame, terror, calm, awkwardness, joy, abandon – all are welcome.

I have the strength and ccourage to face it all. To acknowlege my humanness, my frailty, my eventual death. I accept it all.

Thank you. 

​The raw stone sits in front of me, silent yet alive, invoking memories of past encounters.
I feel the answering call within me and let the rhythm of the music take me.
​My hands begin to flow, no thoughts, no design, just impressions rising from the subtle energies and awakenings within.
I let the stone move me, tell me how she wants to be shaped, listening.
A gentle touch here, a smoothing there, a subtle pushback.
Guided by the shape of the stone, the movement of the colors, the suggestions of the shadows, the impulses of a deeper knowing.

up from the depths
in the early morning darkness
howling predators stalking in the night
fast cunning insistent
the hurt, the guilt, the shame, the rage
looking to feed
I run through the darkness
Just ahead of them
eyes desperately searching the horizon
For the dawn that will make them 
retreat for a time.

skin meets skin.

clothes meet clothes.

the warm and the cool places that happen between.

Energies coming together, acknowledging,

resting together in shared awareness.

A place that exists before the manifest, only possibility.

The longing towards action balanced with non-action

A tension that awakens, enlivens.

From here we remember that touching each other is one way, touching the infinite together is another.

I listen to the snake. The familiar rhythm that has led me deep into my own awareness of my body, my heavenly body, the gift of life.

Trying to find my way in the dark, closing my eyes, letting my body speak as it needs to.

Letting go of control, letting go of direction.

Flowing with the impulses, sometimes ecstatic, sometimes full of rage and energy, sometimes collapsed with despair and loneliness. 

Working to have the courage to feel and acknowledge the intense emotions, the creativity, the seductions, the fantasies, the obsessions.

Embracing the power flowing with the energy and the movement. Finding medicine, becoming medicine in my movement, in my expression and my transmutation.

The rattle moves me, silences the thoughts and the analysis.

My body screams WAKE UP! Move, become, transform, be alive, be rhythmic. Let yourself fall into the present, be fully in this moment, in this possibility, in this awareness. 

Purge the poison of others, cleanse the body temple. Let it guide you through the darkness and the unknowing. Move your way through the way the snake sheds its skin.

When I am quiet I can hear the rhythm of my breath. The croaks of the crows outside resonate within me, reaching into the corners and the edges waking something deep and primal. The sunlight arrives as a presence, like a dear friend sitting with a hot cup of tea.

I learn to trust the quiet and the stillness. To wait for a new arrival, a new emergence that is a co-creation, a space where the nothingnesses touch, where the manifestations touch, where form retreats to the formless, only to re-emerge in different construction.

When I am quiet I remember the moments of solitude, of the peace that comes with being a part of the world around me. There is a recognition of the shared field, sitting by a still pond I observe the pond and the pond observes me. We resonate together in our shared origin in creation, our shared beingness.

When I am quiet I become love. I remember how to be grateful for the moments that have been given. I remember to be grateful for the beings that have walked through this life with me. I remember the help and the kindnesses, the generosity, the companionship, the teachings. I remember shared laughter and struggle. I remember what is beautiful. I remember what is sacred.

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