the wind is playing with the newly-leafed tresses of the nearby trees
today, tossing them about as if they were the long curls of intense
& passionate spanish dancers. i only see their shadows on my
curtains, but oh, how joyous they seem to be, flinging & swinging their
new spring leaves in dramatic sweeping curves of visual gratitude!
deep within, Shiva, there is springtime in the soul as well, reaching out
eagerly to You in Your guise as the solar winds to dance in grand
cosmic revelry. although i cannot see it directly, i do
notice the evidence of light & freely given exuberant
wonder & joyousness. i am stretching full out to catch it in the
fingers of subtle new awareness & discerning observation.
in this world, only the form is seen, & it too is beautiful in
the way that graceful moving shadows are when cast upon a curtain.
they draw us to open wide the curtain that we may see truly with
direct perception rather than partially & obliquely only.
yes, Shiva, everywhere i look i see Your messages & teachings.
the dancing shadow shapes of the leafing trees are Your fleeting greetings,
giving rise to a broad smile on my face & melting warmth in the heart.
i meander through the field in the misty coolness of spring, in the flowering, green, birdsong morning of a new day.
everything is rising up to worship the sun: the mist, trees, birds, flowers, the very air, my heart, all reaching toward the sun. all rises up to You, Shiva, who touches as the sun with warm light rays on chill skin & blesses with down-rushing sweet love. it is forever You behind another's face, closer than my own heartbeat & deeper, more dear. i celebrate You as i meander through the field in the misty spring coolness.
i recall an early teaching You gave me, Shiva, instructing
through my daily living in modest but memorable lessons.
one early sunny spring morning i set out to find wildflowers,
delighted to greet the small blue blossoms scattered like confetti
throughout the rolling country pasture by the newly greening woods.
the tiny blue faces with their smears of dusty yellow pollen
are pure & simple: innocent emissaries of the divine.
they grow vigorously, lush & colorful where the soil is thick.
there is a barren area too, rough with red clay & pebbles,
yet i see one little uplifted blue face in the dry rubble.
a single tiny blue flower, dwarfed, ragged & scrawny, is
reaching upward into the light in the midst of the parched dry dirt.
i bow in respect, swayed by the beauty of this frail survivor
simply doing its best to grow in an unfavorable place.
this touches me more deeply than the abundant clusters of bright
flowers in favored locations, robust in their vitality.
sometimes it is a heroic act just to be alive, seeking light.
You don't refuse anyone who longs for the light of truth, Shiva:
& so it is that i too continue resolutely onward.
i see evidence of You here in my life.
just as i see the small unfurling green leaves
& know that springtime is surely very near,
so do i register Your holy presence.
there are no proper words, yet there is blessing,
there is the unfolding of a precious truth
nourishing the heart within the outer heart.
when i say Your name, You approach me closely.
i don't see You, yet i declare Your presence.
i don't hear You, yet we talk every day.
i would give up the world before i would lose You.
without Your presence, the world is like cardboard.
Shiva! You are the life within the body;
You are why there is a body here at all!
thus do i register Your holy presence.