patience, endurance & alert observation

the body is convinced that it is here to be served. it wants to relax &
be gently, respectfully cared for. the emotions are convinced that feeling
happy & comfortable is most highly desirable to attain &
maintain. the mind is convinced that it is here to take charge of circumstances.

the Self is learning that it is not the body, the emotions or the mind.
the Self is that which remains after all the transitory things & beings
have exhausted their stories & actions. that which yet remains steady has seen
it all come & go, for the Self is the Witness to the rising & falling.

the world no longer intones its low hypnotic & alluring call to draw
me in, or maybe i just no longer pay attention. i'm listening for
Shiva now. He must be near because i can feel the deep pull of His power.
i await the next development in my journey home to Shiva. it will
probably require yet more patience, endurance & alert observation.
i have never yet encountered anything that did not benefit from it.

in the end

i watch the exodus of the fall leaves from the trees; crispy red, yellow,
orange & brown against the cerulean sky. some leaves simply let go
& drift slowly to the ground among the other fallen leaves. ah, but some
leaves are teased from the silent trees by the busy hands of the wind & whirled
on a great journey, as if on a pilgrimage to holy Mount Kailash.
they spin in spirals, almost describing arcane esoteric glyphs of
power & vision; up, up into the sky & onward beyond my ken.

i ponder on those soaring leaves, taken up through no intention of their
own to sail through the deep mystery into the light. they appear to be
no different from the other leaves that simply fall softly to the earth
& lie there unnoticed. who can say that wind-surfing half the world away
to Kailash is any more auspicious than quietly yielding to ones
destiny without fanfare, & nobly enduring? in the end, Shiva
holds us all to his breast like lost children come home to be cherished at last.
in the end, when it all folds up again, we return to our innocence.

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.

a bubble in the breeze

having no power of my own, i am couched in limitless power.
knowing the eternal truth, external judgements find no home in me.
i have no home. i have no family, no worldly aspirations.

having no home, i am at peace right where i am. having no desire
to accumulate, i am as weightless as a bubble in the breeze
& i discover myself at last at rest just where i need to be.

every day i find myself anew. every night i release myself
from focussed form & resolute need. soon i will not exist distinct
in my originality, yet existence will go rolling on.

all is nested & folded into patterns beyond casual thought,
sliding through dimensions beyond & enfolding the usual three.
You are with me step by step, Shiva who lives in the cave of my heart.

You ignite the light that dims the dark, returning full color to sight.
i feel the sunrise in my heart in the long cold dark of winter &
now my sleep is over & ended, for my door is standing open.

my door is standing open & fingers of the sun are beckoning.
i have no body; i am formless & free, weightless as a bubble
in the breeze coming to rest, shining alight just where i need to be.

no matter what the outcome

You cannot enter me in Your full potency
for blood & bone are too dense to hold the fullness
& intensity of Your vast power & light.
yet i do sincerely invite You nonetheless.
whether i live or am altogether destroyed
is an empty thought from an old collective dream.
i awaken now. i hear Your resounding call
& seek with all my heart to follow it to You.
no matter what the outcome may be, i am Yours.