Don’t rob yourself of what you’re feeling,
but don’t hold too tightly to it either.
Abiding at the matrix of perception,
the stillpoint where all suns and moons
begin and end, stable in the thoughtless state
of no anticipation, no regret, gently lift the Bride
across the threshold of space and time –
heart steady, yielding, serene.
There’s nowhere to go, nothing to do,
but quietly unfasten the seven buttons
as carefully as the night requires, humbly
unveiling an innocence no stain of memory
could taint, a presence towards which
every creature’s face thrusts forward
in speechless awe and rapture.
With senses drenched in the honeycomb nectar
cycling as bliss through the boundless space
once thought of as this momentary body,
it’s easy to forget that everything
changes and disappears.
In the western sky, a thin scarlet ribbon
of vanishing light lingers long after sunset —
these words, and what they try to express,
are all timed to the waning of that light,
until even the night frogs fall silent
in the fading velvet glow.
Some things need to be seen
through tears, to finally
When I fell in love,
I knew I was doomed.
The heartbreak of impermanence
is always stalking us, testing us
with what we can’t imagine
ever living without –
gauging our reaction
when it’s all taken away.
Standing together in late winter light,
she once held me close and whispered true,
“This sunlit moment streaming through
is all that’s left of me and you.”