Hıdrellez

Morgonen efter Hıdrellez 2023

Enligt tradition möts Al-Khidr och Elijah under en rosenbuske på natten mellan den 5 och 6 maj varje år. En sammansmältning som välsignar. Några saker att göra för att ta del av välsignelsen: rulla runt i gräset, tvätta dig med nattens dagg eller regn, begrav en önskning vid ett träd eller fäst den vid en rosenbuske och inte minst tänd en eld utom/inom att dansa runt, genom…

Läs mer om helgnatten här:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H%C4%B1d%C4%B1rellez

I mitt stygnfästade erfarande ser nattens sammansmältning ut så här:

Den anatoliska HÄNLIGHETEN som löper i orden hängivande/hänryckande anländer i sin månbåt och föder fram det blå och det gröna barnet…
den blågröna som leder de oinstruktionsbara …
åter igen, igen åter...

duet i duett:

Plötsliga uppståndelse, plötsliga nåd
du som i tankarnas buskage kastade en eld
Här kommer du nu skrattande likt nyckeln till ett fängelse
                                                                                            Rumi

… åter igen, igen åter: 

Gloria Anzaldúas Letting go

It's not enough

deciding to open.

You must plunge your fingers

into your navel, with your two hands

split open,

spill out the lizards and horned toads

the orchids and the sunflowers,

turn the maze inside out.

Shake it.

Yet, you don't quite empty.

Maybe a green phlegm

hides in your cough.

You may not even know

that it's there until a knot

grows in your throat

and turns into a frog.

It tickles a secret smile

on your palate

full of tiny orgasms.

But sooner or later

it reveals itself.

The green frog indiscreetly croaks.

Everyone looks up.

It's not enough

opening once. 

Again you must plunge your fingers

into your navel with your two hands

rip open

drop out dead rats and cockroaches

spring rain, young ears of corn.

Turn the maze inside out.

Shake it.

This time you must let go.

Meet the dragon's open face

and let the terror swallow you.

- You dissolve in its saliva

- no one recognizes you as a puddle

- no one misses you

- you aren't even remembered

and the maze isn't even

of your own making.

You've crossed over.

And all around you space.

Alone.  With nothingness.

Nobody's going to save you.

No one's going to cut you down,

cut the thorns thick around you.

No one's going to storm

the castle walls nor

kiss awake your birth,

climb down your hair.

nor mount you

on the white steed.

There is no one who

will feed the yearning.

Face it. You will have

to do, do it yourself.

And all around you a vast terrain.

Alone.  With night.

Darkness you must befriend if

you want to sleep nights.

It's not enough

letting go twice, three times.

a hundred.  Soon everything is

dull, unsatisfacrory.

Night's open face

interests you no longer.

And soon, again, you return

to your element and

like a fish to the air

you come to the open

only between breathings.

But already gills

grow on your breasts.