the House of Detachment

internet image: lingam
the stones by the Dead Sea are rich with fossils & color. everything here
is brilliant & intense with power: the clear blue sky overarches the
bright blue-green of the Dead Sea. huge flat boulders rest in wadis & on slopes
near the rising tawny cliffs of Mount Yishai. they are dense with fossil shapes:
ammonites, trilobites & other nameless ancient creatures set in stone.

one can walk upon them, those primordial beings who were alive just
as we are now. presently they are wedded to stone, partnered close in a
fixed slice of time, paving the great pavilion of the House of Detachment.
being a friend of stones, i am at peace in the House of Detachment, as
i sit musing long hours with the fossil beings, dreaming with them as they
dream with me. they tell me "dark" & "cold," "bright" & "warm": their sharing is pure &
simple, innocent & primal. it feels like cool air wafting from a well.

our genes blend subtly. we dream together & i tell them about Shiva,
earth's holy caretaker who is known by His shape in stone. Shiva is the
earth reaching up to the sacred sky, sun & stars. He is like a finger
pointing toward the mystery, i tell them. He is a great stone column,
a divine lingam. Shiva is mountains, obelisks, towers, standing stones,
& cairns worldwide. they all announce & reflect Shiva's signature presence.

we who love Shiva see Him everywhere. He is generativity
& new life. He is rest & formlessness, decay of the old & outworn.
the fossil beings dreaming with me understand Shiva. they recognize
what it is to be of-the-earth. they span millennia of risings &
fallings, of villages & kingdoms. we are all cousins, here for a while
peering into the mystery, wondering & pondering together
in the House of Detachment, abiding in Shiva's enduring presence.

where i finally come to rest

internet image
i yearn to be a stone in the restless river, rushing hard against me in
urgent raging flow. a solidly embedded stone, seemingly forever in
the river, can be swiftly rolled into a new abode by the century's
massive flood. nothing is secure in place, all is moving where it needs to be.

i stay in silence, as is the nature of a stone. let the river do the
talking & the moving & the surging to the eager hungry sea below.
let the river roll me long & smooth that i may be a holy lingam in
Your temple, Shiva, serving as i can best where i finally come to rest.