the emptiness of inner space enfolds in peaceful calm quiet. it sublimes everything into a warm embrace, a touch that feels as though the sharp edges that had kept the heart enclosed have now been softened into passing scenery--going, gone, no longer there. the past is a blur of green, blue, gold, dissolving into nothing that can be named, including myself. all the names now fall away. yet an urge remains, a calling, a gentle magnetic pulling that has me held fast in its grasp & takes me to the still-point of all that i have ever yearned for in my deepest most hidden heart shrine. it's You, Shiva. i am calling You--or is it You who call me? this emptiness of inner space is really filled by You, Shiva: Your fragrance of jasmine & datura, Your holy siren song that triggers all the best in me & affects me like ambrosia. the body wants the known & familiar in a pleasant pattern formed to cushion & protect the sociocultural program. that is not possible for me since i overflow its edges in the way that irrepressible exuberant life will do. no boundary can contain or limit me, Shiva, for You have fashioned me thus: for the liminal places & the far edges where reality melts into color & tone & songs are born. stories leak out sentence by sentence & numinous myths dwell there. cradle me close, Shiva, for i am soft & new as a baby in the absence of enculturation & social compulsion. only You are vast enough to hold me now that i have cast off the lines that bound me to the body & its documented past. all that remains now is the tender intimate vastness of You. cradle me close, Shiva, for i am soft & new as a baby.
