Feeling To Infinity

In the morning, he despaired of being human.
His one motivating ambition: a fresh cup of coffee.

Without coffee, a lot of what finally gets done
in this world might never finally get done.

Projects begun the day before might languish
the next day in the office, factory, or out in the field.

His next big mistake was reading the news. That,
along with the coffee, left a bad taste in his mouth.

He muttered: “Why must humans act so . . . human?
What will it take before they finally learn?”

Now he could either go back to bed or make breakfast.
He hesitated for a few hours before finally making a choice.

He had read the Hindu books, he wanted to be a Determinist.
The most painful part of being human was having to choose.

Life would be so much easier without choices confronting
him every step of the way, what good was free will?

Meanwhile, the whole planet was revolving in fixed orbit
around the sun, the same way it always did — choicelessly.

He admired that concept so much that he eventually
made one final, momentous choice.

He put his mind to it, and eventually was able
to rise so high he blended with the moon.

Now, when we happen to look up at night,
we might see his smiling face passing over us —
it’s the happy face of the man in the moon.

I sit next to you, watching the candle you lit
earlier as it burns steadily down, releasing
a delicate perfume which fills the room.

I page through the books you bought me,
though you are the only book I want to read.

It has always been this way, sitting next to you,
gazing into that flame which never wavers.

I sometimes have the sense that we are here
at the pleasure of another being, perhaps a deity
of love who takes great delight in our being this way.

Even though the night approaches, you and I find
a welcoming comfort in the encroaching darkness.

We are here together, holding this pristine light
between us, knowing that whatever comes —
season after season, life after life —
it will always be this way.

Just so, Monday became Marvelous Monday,
and then Terrific Tuesday, Wonderful Wednesday,
Thrilling Thursday, and so forth.

It was indeed a Thrilling Thursday yesterday as I sat
in the dentist’s office, awaiting a tooth extraction.

Like the rest of this body, the tooth had served me
well for nearly seven decades, dutifully performing
as it had been designed without any complaint.

Now it had decayed to the point where extraction
was called for, and though it clung to the gum
with inordinate resolve, it eventually let go
and surrendered to the dentist’s devices.

But no, this is not going to be a trite sermon
on impermanence, or the grace of letting go.

Everyone knows that nothing really lasts,
least of all these fragile bodily components
which we’ve cumulatively taken to be ourselves.

Today, we can’t deny that Autumn has arrived,
the skies are grey, fallen leaves cover the ground.

I sit here now with a swollen jaw, while out there,
resting in some medical waste container, a crumbled
tooth is humbly murmuring, “Om Namah Shivaya.”

Little by little, everything began to reveal itself,
impressing him with the evidence that all is well.

At last he stood up, stretched, had a good long laugh,
and then set off on his journey back to the town.

This took many lifetimes, because he was in no hurry.
The journey itself turned out to be so interesting
that he often forgot where he was going.

When he finally arrived, it seemed little had changed.
He remembered why he had left in the first place.

Soon a group of children approached him, so he swung
his cloth sack down from over his shoulders and opened it.

Reaching his big hand in, he fished out a handful of sweets,
which he laughingly offered to the gathered children.

Now he realized for himself what his mission was to be:
going from town to town, spreading happiness and joy!

What better use for this gift of life, then to freely share
the heart awakening with which he had been graced.

The world had smiled at him, and now he was smiling back.
He had few words, because he felt laughter was enough.

In every town, after pleasing the children, a crowd of people
might gather around him, curious about his teaching.

He offered no sermon, but instead put his bag down,
reared his head back, and laughed out loud to the sky.

His laughter was so mirthfully contagious that eventually
all of the gathered townspeople began laughing too.

This signaled that his work was done there, so he shouldered
his patched cloth bag and wandered off on his merry way.

At his death, he provided the people with one last laugh:
he asked to be cremated, but to everyone’s surprise,
he had stuffed his robes with fireworks.

When the flames set them off, small rockets shot out
everywhere, while the crowd burst out laughing
at the marvelous humor of his parting gift.

Still, if I could detach from this form-body
right now, I’d expand out to the mystery place
where one universe collides with another.

I wouldn’t be thinking about the chores
I planned for the day — cleaning the birdcage,
shopping for artichokes, waffles, and ice cream,
composing verses with words that don’t rhyme.

As it is, summer seems to have burnt itself out.
Autumn is getting stronger every day, the coolness
is a welcome relief, but it brings with it a melancholy.

Just as there is a vast dark space between galaxies,
so too between universes, and as a fractal of the celestial
design, so too is there a space between thoughts.

Within that majestic spaciousness, seasons flow into one
another, immense galaxies revolve in symphonic grandeur,
eels wriggle along in rippling streams, seeking small
bits of light on which to dine, light consuming light
in this grand banquet of light, spawning more
and more light, light expanding to infinity.

Wheeling my cart up and down the supermarket aisles,
these corridors of glorious light, I exchange glances
with fellow mystery beings, none of us knowing
how much longer these dear bodies we wear
will hold out, none of us really caring.

We’re going to light and more light still,
we’re expanding out into infinity.

We are a song, a bird, a thought, a bliss,
we’re looking down at the beings looking up.

We can’t tell which is which, we’re looking up
at us looking down, it doesn’t matter,
we are free from containment,
free-flying, weeeee!!!

No limits, no obstructions, no complaints —
everything unfolding in all directions
simultaneously, effortlessly.

We turn around to look up — there we go,
beyond the blue, beyond the sun, a straight shot
to the heart of the galactic core, the infinite doorway.

No hesitation, we pass right through, time moves
backward, scenes of events hopscotch and blend
until it’s undeniably true what they say:
there is nothing to understand.

Ah, now we are flying into our life, we are rolling in joy
within an enormous womb, the belly of the Mother,
Emptiness Mother, she is mirthful, laughing.

We squeeze out into the pure atmosphere,
laughing and crying, knowing nothing.

Beings of light surround us, their eyes aglow
with rapt astonishment. Nobody speaks.

Just so, we rise up, we rise up!
Together at last, we embrace.

It doesn’t matter what we are —
a song, a bird, a thought, a bliss,
in the midst of this dream, we kiss.

If we reflect on it at all, we typically imagine
this mind is an amorphous something
floating around inside the brain.

Later, we’re surprised to discover that we ourselves,
the human persona which we take ourselves to be,
is actually nothing more than an intermittent
figment, a story, or creation of this mind.

Somehow we suddenly exist, with no idea
how that came to be, how we came to be.

Whatever happens after that merely
compounds our confusion.

Various dramas ensue, until the body becomes still,
lying there in a deathly pose, and somber people
who are likewise confused hover over it,
quietly exclaiming to each other:

“Doesn’t he look just like himself?”