Storehouse Consciousness

How to center in prana; and evermore voltage, as Divine generators; and evermore love, to center in Love, as grand as Love? She uttered Love, to picture love, a volt for hearts. I felt us move, for mental asana, drenched in self-control. We see for contours, to tiptoe motion, drenched in yama. I saw for love—drained, deep in concentration, crying without vocals. The ocean spoke of love, and Raja rites, deep in dhyana. We parted hemispheres, to carry for burdens, drenched in dharana. More a craving, to surf dimensions, probing for Samadhi!     Its Love drenched in love, and love rinsed in Love, through coalmines for Love.     Its soot to stir, to mix for clears, searching for satsang; and shraddha rivers—endure a mixture, evermore to praise.     Its mantra japa, to thump a soul, both in for out, and out for in; and kaya chi—to cleanse for duhkha, dancing through cosmos.     I hear for movements, through boomerang bodhi, to conquer the outflows.     She’s mystic—for charismatic—a village of characteristics; and once we speak of personality, we blur for lines; for once for one, to witness a stranger, evermore grounded in Love.     It’s more for prajna, to discern ghosts, to heal for bruising; and ever to pause, to breathe to no breath, where all is blended; for smaze is maya, ever for prowl, to wrestle bodhicitta.     The stars shift, comprised of souls, streaming through thunder; for volts shadow dharana, pictured in mind, where fire flickers.     We die for moments, drenched in sunyata, to surf the empty; and more for filled, to see for blankness, heard in a non-vocal world.     Its mudra words, for mantra signs, to feel it explode.