Love is the Silver Ladder
If my body was a beautiful palace of many rooms,
my heart would be one of those fine, spacious rooms
located about chest-height, comparatively speaking.
The room my heart occupied would glow warmly with soft, golden light
emanating from the floor,
made from the boughs and trunk of the white pine of peace,
polished to a high shimmer.
The walls would be the gentle white of adobe, reminiscent of the
inviting homes set in the Arizona desert,
whose heat is the fire that melts away all that is not of purity
The walls of my heart’s room would be bare except for the presence
of many expansive, crystal-clear windows,
providing an excellent view to all that is beautiful and awe-inspiring
not only in this world, but in a multitude of worlds.
There would be no furniture other than luxurious heaps of brilliantly-hued cushions
and woven rugs collected on journeys through exotic lands,
One could nestle comfortably amongst these cushions and rugs, and be tantalized
by the hint of spice and aromatic oils.
And oh, the bounteous pots of glorious green plants that would
thrive in the room of my heart,
Verdant tropical trees and palms, luscious flowering plants
native to the jungle and south-sea islands.
The room would be alive with health and vitality.
My heart place would be the most harmonious and holy room imaginable,
uniting the myriad textures of experience
into an orchestration of musical genius.
On the outside, one of the windows would be decorated with
vibrant red paint.
The fiery red of life-force and vitality.
The fiery red of sexual combustion.
The fiery red of birthing blood.
Leading up to the red-frame window would be a silver ladder,
like the silver umbilical river
the soul rides through this universe and beyond.
The silver ladder studded with the crystalline stars
of the Milky Way.
This ladder would reach to the open window of my heart,
inviting my lover to enter,
My lover would be, and is, all that moves on the wind of beauty,
the divine wind of joy.
My body is a beautiful temple of many fine rooms,
Love is the silver ladder reaching to the red-frame window
of my heart.
~ Agi’sti Tis’stu
Inspired by Grandmother Pa’Ris’ha