i lay sick & powerless in a bleakly raw subjective realm. Shiva, i sought You but there was no ability to connect. i had little capacity to focus. neither mind nor heart was able to hold steady nor could the body find restfulness. i saw the inescapable fact of transience & that the body, from birth to death, is at the mercy of the fickle world. i saw the fixed agenda of the sociocultural rule & the curtailing framework of dogma, belief & submission. the shiny domain of civilization seemed rather uncivil as the coronavirus occupied my senses & raged its own battle against the entrenched forces held deep down within body & mind, digging up the time-worn bones of old suffering. i felt dispirited, Shiva, & vulnerable to culling for the offense of inconvenient & unwelcome viewpoints. i lay there unable to register Your presence & feeling like a pariah outcast refugee from another planet. this is where i see in my own life that the eternal goodness, who is given myriads of names, has repeatedly blessed me with supportive visions & insights. Shiva, You are the true source of my sustenance & guidance, providing strength & endurance. what need has the body for power when all power comes from You? what is the need for seeking acceptance from other people when You visit & love me within my heart's innermost chamber? who in all this manifested place could possibly equal You? You are the fire, Shiva, & i am a spark of You, flying from Your fire into the frying pan of this hungry jagat earth into this body, then forgetting. like the coronavirus, this place greatly dulls intuitive spiritual awareness. Shiva, thank You for providing me the experience of the coronavirus blocking me from You & bringing its parade of old energies to me. i endured it & outlasted it & i bow before You now in gratitude & humility. OM NAMAH SHIVAYA!
i reach out to contact You, Shiva, but i cannot dent the dense interior coronavirus haze. i cannot reach You, so i drop into a deep daze. i sink. i float. i snag upon thorny vasanas, empty & drained of energy, joy & liveliness. the body resembles a zombie refugee, slow, heavy as gravity, composed of mud, meat & bone, now absolved by unthinking, unfeeling raw dark sleep. void of intent & organization, there is rest, a descent & upsurge, a cleansing, a long release. Shiva, reduced in vitality by a virus, i look for You behind the moving shadow surface anyway, for only You give the depth that i seek, the height that i aim for & the strength to continue. i am Your own primal kin returning now to You. i bring poems, offered like the tinsel gifts of crows, sincerely grateful that You are here to receive them, these small shiny bright innocent tributes i give now. OM NAMAH SHIVAYA