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Unblossomed

from Prism by Niema Lightseed

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lyrics

The path to presence.
Different, every time.
Time as a spiral, not a line.
The true way never looks the same
Because open eyes are always changing.
Wisdom is born of the quiet spring,
the fertile darkness that lives below our knowing,
that begets our awakening,
and opens to our remembering.
Ancestral light, the substance of our wings
though they look like muscle and bone;
and, however caged, some part of us still remembers
these wild hearts where meant to sing us home.

Resting in the breath at the beginning of creation.
the precious petals still spiraled over center.
trusting in the lightless journey of incubation
and the wisdom of growth’s unfolding; beyond fear.

I have grown accustomed to being excellent at everything I do.
A forgetting that evolution is ongoing,
and we have ever-shifting knowings
of what is true.
Wanting the promised satisfaction of completion,
without accepting the necessity of uncertainty;
the fragmentation required for deeper integration.
The interdependence inherent in real power.
We revere the fully-bloomed flower,
adore its scent and beckoning openness.
But the mountaintop is only one moment of the trail.
The fragrance of forgiveness may draw us towards freedom,
but darkened woods and bottomless chasms
elicit many a vital despairing wail.

Pilgrim, there is no one road to follow,
the road is made by walking
over stone and bone,
is made by breathing
beyond everything you’ve ever known,
and home is an ever-shifting experience.
You may taste the sweet nectar for a moment
but then the flower dies,
and you’d best discover the beauty in compost.
This path is understood for only an instant
sunlight caught in the hand through a prism
a rainbow bridge to absolute nowness.
This path is found in the effusive glee
of a child’s first spinning dance in a summer meadow,
in the feel of my lover’s lips upon my brow,
in the silence between every sound.
The path is different every time,
because it leads to a place that can never be known,
and only in the seeking
can we ever be found.

Baby birds, bits of primordial viscousness
sticking to their uncoordinated wings,
do not judge themselves for their undeveloped ability to sing.
Roses do not believe they will only be worthy of love when their petals unfurl.
And lion cubs roar with abandon, regardless of their obvious harmlessness.

Embrace unblossomedness.

How can you expect to be at your destination when you are still on the road?
Why collapse your life into someone else’s mold?
What if you stopped demanding perfection,
allowing life its own form of completion?
Put down the sledgehammer of should,
shaming the sap out of your soul.
Put down the chisel and awl,
and rest in ever-curious awe
at the beauty of your becoming:
the unplannable inevitability of your timeless blossoming.

The path to presence.
Different, every time.
Time as a spiral, not a line.
The true way never looks the same
Because open eyes are always changing.
Pilgrim, there is no one road to follow,
the road is made by walking
over stone and bone,
is made by breathing
beyond everything you’ve ever known,
and home is an ever-shifting experience.
The path is different every time,
because it leads to a place that can never be known,
and only in the seeking
can we ever be found.

credits

from Prism, released November 5, 2019
Niema Lightseed ~ Poetry
Theo Grace ~ Music & Production
Benjamin Jack Crandall ~ Saxophone

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Niema Lightseed Portland, Oregon

Niema Lightseed is a poet and priestess of the new paradigm dedicated to transforming oppression through art, embodiment education, linguistic analysis, and ritual.

Her poetry evokes the transformative power of art and reveals the beauty at the marrow of life.
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