An Open Book

She is like a book
whose pages open
revealing a wonder to
those who read and know
the deeper mystery
which lies beyond the obvious.

Each page of her
an unfolding
a revelation.
The edges of her page
crave the touch of the hand
that will read and know her
not just for what she reveals
but that which remains hidden.

Tucked beneath her words
beneath herstory
lies all that holds her together
and while she may open herself
to the calm steady hand
there rests a wonder beyond all wonder
that ties each page
to the other.

Each word is crafted perfectly
each page a discovery.
Every chapter speaks a great lesson
and yet, there is something that is greater
than the sum of all of her parts.

Certainly the words are wonderful.
The soft pages that yield to the hand
while giving it grip
and texture
all add to the experience
that is the story.
But like all books,
they are all words
that express a piece of something larger
and cannot in totality
reveal the mystery that lies within....
the word beyond the words,
the holy of holies.

The real mystery
the great wonder of all wonders
lies beyond the page and words
into the very binding
that holds it all together
and it is She
who awaits the hand
that would undo them
gently
carefully
just to know how She is made
how She is put together
how She desires to hold all of what She is
into one tightly knit frame.

it is by his hand that he undoes her.
It is not to take her apart
but to worship
the skill
and grace
that has put this all together as it is,
to take her apart
and then know her so well
that he can put her safely
and expertly
back together
as if nothing had ever happened
and as if everything had.

She has been waiting for this
not fully realizing
just how tightly the strings of her own binding
have been laced.
Fearful
perhaps
of letting all those cherished leaves
fly upon the wind.

But with him
he does not cast them away
or aside
nor seek to undo
for some purpose beyond his own worshipfulness.
In doing this
she somehow knows how she is made to be read
seen
and understood
and without his undoing of her
could she ever hope
to know the masterwork
of her own binding
which can now be laid loose
so the book opens wide
and her own soulfulness
set to flow deeper into those crisp
softened pages does open.

It isn't that she doesn't know
the mystery that he seeks.
She is this mystery
feels it
every time a new word is writ
or new chapter entered.
it is she who awaits
for the knowing eye
to get that there is something more
beyond all appearances.

Her binding
like her heart
do open wide
in soulful surrender
an alignment to the very vibration
that moves her
and reminds her
that she is not alone.

Every book is this
and craves the look
that will reach into it
beyond its own words
and story
down into the marrow of it
into the binding
and lacing
and neatly controlled borders
of its perfect being.
And every reader does crave to
look deeply into just such a book
to read her words
like a sacred and silent prayer
of knowing
and communion.

Now the days of burning books is over
and  we stand fascinated by the great secret
scrolls and books now coming forth.
Just as each life is a book
each one of us has that book
that changes how we knew the world
and speaks to us both of ourselves
and the mystery that is emerging just now
as new words
new books
come to light.
There are profusions of books
this is certain
but the right book
becomes a trusted friend
and love
that remains
whose binding is undone
and put back
perfectly each day
so new pages might be added
to that which seemed perfect
and which now grows into something more.