like the ocean

when i talk to You, Shiva, detachment slowly happens.
no longer can i repeat the tired old stories in my head.
they dissolve & show their essential unreality
as patterns that keep repeating habit-like in the mind.
they are just snapshots of a passing moment, inflated,
grasped, given importance by other's firm opinions.

the mind is choked with all this mental debris, mirroring
the rafts of plastic garbage cluttering our blue oceans
& the poisons leaching from dumps, fouling the groundwater.

i won't go there anymore. i feel the danger. i know.

i turn my back on the chatter of inner dialogue
& face toward You, Shiva, who has shown me this wisdom.
You are the antidote to the poison i have swallowed
& i hold fast to You, placing You foremost in the mind.
purify my thoughts, Shiva, please remind me of You.
i want You to fill the mind with Your clarity & light.
i want to fall into You like a rushing waterfall!
catch me like the ocean that i may dissolve into You!

talk to me

"talk to me," Shiva says, "nothing is too trifling,
for I am the essence of everything here.
you can talk to me." i hear Him in my heart &
i wonder how He can care about such trivia.

"try Me," He says, "the open heart knows no trivia."
feeling shy, i tell Him what i am doing now,
how words reveal themselves for poems, like flowers
unfurling petals to the nurture of sunlight,
singing in the language of fragrant bright color,
a hymn of gratitude, chorus after chorus.

"see what I mean?" Shiva says. "nothing is too small
to hold the whole of creation at its center.
talk to me," He says, "for this too is sadhana."

this is why my lips move silently within crowds
& why my voice is heard in soft conversation
when people are gone, for Shiva is here with me,
teaching the art of divine inebriation
without concern for the opinions of others.

He is right, for all my talking to Him keeps the 
door of my heart open wide & He enters &
we talk together about pebbles & planets.
when i can talk no more, He hold me in His heart.