some things are just too precious & delicate to speak of
in human words. they wiggle sideways, squirm & slide away
& only the yearning to touch that mystic realm remains.
it is more real & alive than anything down here
that comes with rules & penalties. it has taken my heart
hostage & the baffled mind is left juggling soap bubbles
by the light of the dim waning moon, murmuring softly.
Shiva walks the burning grounds in clouds of dust & ashes.
i join my steps with His by the flickering of the fire,
& he lays a crown of soap bubbles on my waiting head.
i smile & do not speak. my heart is full. there are no words.
they finally fall short. i walk silently with Shiva.
nothing given in words lasts, but the heart can point the way.
some seeds must be watered thoroughly by our tears before they can sprout: the darkness & moisture are needed before the heat of the bright day. things soften & fall away in the salty wetness of flowing tears. it's too early for the light, too early for words to begin pulling things apart or holding them together by dogged force & grim grit.
first must come the quickening tears, the basic form of the fertilizer of the soul, for growth needs abundant moisture to support suppleness. let the tears well up & flow. something inside is moving towards birth, struggling slick & wet into the soft dark blanket of the deep night.
You know about tears, Shiva. You know what a cleansing release they bring. You know that they have healing properties & a holy origin. i will rest in You, Shiva, & the tears will serve Your purpose as i do japa of Your sacred mantra on my rudraksha seed mala.
Shiva, You are the purity of light that sweeps across the psyche.
You set forth that which i now need to know for dispelling the shadows
falling over the vision, darkening, distorting & deadening.
You encapsulate me, holding me in the purity of Your light
as if i am an infant clasped in the mother's arms & suckled at
her soft breast. Shiva, Your fragrance is so sweet that i am dissolving
in it, becoming sweetness, emitting light like a beacon for lost
travelers, or like a campfire kept burning through the night to hearten.
Shiva, You are the intimacy of night, smoothing all the wrinkles
& rough edges that tell of a long arduous journey, soothing the
hungering heart with Your calm touch. the very atoms of You & i
embrace & intermingle in communion that words cannot reveal.
ah, but words can point the way & they can comfort & strengthen also,
until the silence grows so deep that it muffles & floods all else but
the purity of light & the long slow intimacy of the night.
i am not meant to fit in or conform. i am made for the part of
independent observer & outsider, watcher & listener.
the body can no longer assert ties to my guardianship, for
Shiva invites me to withdraw my vigilance over the body's
condition & to release it to its natural process. i do.
i release the body to its fate. i focus instead on Shiva:
knowing Shiva, breathing Shiva, seeing, tasting, smelling & touching
Shiva. i plunge deep into Shiva & take full refuge in Shiva,
that i may live truly in Him, for i know that my home is not here.
Shiva, hear my lament! or maybe it's a rallying cry for the
forces of light to shine out ever more brightly & vividly.
Shiva, hear my lament! or perhaps it's the dying cry of the
ego as it exhausts the vasanas of the mind in weariness.
Shiva, hear me in my loss & confusion & have compassion for
this slowness & ignorance. hold me tightly as the ties to the world
dissolve in the natural process of this transformation & flux.
life is eternal; awareness is cosmic; words rest in the light of
sudden pure direct knowing, & pieces & parts are one with the whole.
soft upon the senses darkness descends, gently pressing,
inviting acceptance, surrender. this is the fruitful
darkness of gestation where borders blur & numinous
exchange can happen spontaneously. words are too slow
for this subtle realm, too angular, sharp & hard. like knives
carving water, they give motion mimicking meaning, yet
little is clear & nothing enduring remains for long.
the gentle fruitful darkness is like a womb, allowing
growth of life without disturbance, nurturing & holding
it in the divinely provided secure protection.
i come from that darkness to You, Shiva, called forth by the
sacred mystery of Your summons, alluring as the
glow of a night-blooming blossom in the pale new moonlight.
soft upon the senses, darkness deepens, gently pressing,
hinting of surrender to the fullness of gestation.
this is where we touch, far beyond borders or worlds. this is
where words are put aside & communion of pure essence
reaches forth, heart to heart. this is all i know, Shiva: the
slow unveiling of the wordless, the advent of light born
of the fruitful darkness, the abundant mother of form.
i go through it again: the loss, the pain, the suffering & loneliness.
again i cleave to You & give it all to You -- it's all i have to give!
there is nothing to offer but the heaviness of the occluding flesh
& the memorized stories about how it came to be the way it is.
they are worn thin at the edges, ragged & smeared with multiple corrections.
every day i throw them away again but they crawl back in the dark night.
yet fewer words are there & the manuscript is thinner now over time,
after these years of turning my back & resolutely walking away.
oh Shiva! this is a hard lesson, all this emptiness & loneliness!
it has held me down & had its ruthless way with me long enough indeed!
You help me see the old eroding patterns to leave them. You guide me home.
You come back for me relentlessly, You reach to me as i reach to You.
i walked the cold solitary halls of separation & division
& i'm headed for the door, Shiva, walking onward to full disclosure,
where we share sweet infinite kindness & love without a word or a thought,
& nothing stands in opposition or defense to the purity of love.
as i write these words to You on paper, Shiva, i am
inviting You to be near me, to touch me with Your grace,
with Your compassionate way of revealing ageless truths
as if they had grown & blossomed deep within heart & mind
& only now could reveal their shining fragrant presence.
as i write these words to You on paper, Shiva, i find
myself feeling as if i sit by a wood-burning stove
enjoying the heat as wood is sacrificed to the fire.
we all burn with this indescribable divine flame.
it consumes our errors, making ashes of our mistakes.
as i write these words to You on paper, Shiva, i am
asking You to come so close that i lose myself in You,
so close that the meaning of the words "You" & "i" dissolves.
there is no more writing, no more words, no "i" & no "You"--
only now exists, only life, just this burning moment.