Irrefutable… The Dance Called Dwarka Addendum.

The being that Iho Grace is writing the book of poetry called, A Dance Called Dwarka for has been absent from my life experience for around six weeks. I ventured into the memory of that life more than once in that time to recollect the sensations, the feelings, and awe that the Mauritian merchant felt when he saw the being from a watery world in the Sirius Star System cross his path, twice. Both instances were fleeting, mere moments, but the impressions that fill my being (even as I write this) are tangible, powerful and like a torrent that pours over, through, and into me in spectacular ways that set my literary heart to flame.

This being (in this lifetime) is just as otherworldly to me, as I look at her in a human form. The resonance of that life to me is so revealing in her movements, her language, and her genetic human physiology. I saw her for the first time in six weeks last night and I felt deep and powerful awe. My reverence for her runs through me as I appreciate the wonder of her transition from form to form, yet seeing her through the eyes of my form (very different from the Mauritian merchants) abundant joy and love fill my heart and course along my arterial highways, filling my body with dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin. I revel in that experience and it instills in me a literary flow where Iho Grace transitions into my body like an apparitional overlay of a swelling tide of verse.

I don’t believe I’ve seen better poetry coming across the pages I am writing. Each unique poem is a cascade of devotion, marvel, and conjecture that whips up in my visions, emotions, senses that though are not bound to me in this lifetime, are resonant with a life that I am beginning to recall with the completion of each poem. This being is an extraordinary muse, perhaps the most wondrous of my current lifetime, and I have had many (Sanctum, A Flickering Light Called Fate, The Eyes of Love See All all have their muses) and for this alone, I am grateful beyond any words. To call her a friend, makes me humble to be honoured by her decision to call a friend too.

My greatest muse sings from the Sirius and her voice echoes through the ocean…

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