Feeling To Infinity

Feel the glad circulation of the current
between lover and beloved — nectar —
kiss of pure presence, grace-bestowing
intimate divinity, living all, loving all!

Oh there is one perfect unbroken stream
of love, which is light, which flows out
as it flows in, and if we were to say
something about this mind now, raise
the arms in praise of mind euphoric,

bright mind in motion, vast mind at rest,
love mind circulating within the heart
of itself, no boundary, all-embracing,
flowing out as it flows in as it flows out

where everyone waits, yet it’s already here,
just as it is — we’re already saved, redeemed,
awakened, transmuted, transubstantiated,
given and taken, yes, in worlds without end!

Even now all arms are raising up, reaching up
to touch all sentience, circulating the god elixir,
the sweet amrita of connection between lovers,
between you and I and everything to infinity!

I never saw you, though you magically appear
as everyone and everything, and because
this is how you play, I bow down to you!

I say you are wild, though you are calm and bright;
I say you are serene, though you are truly wild.
Since you can’t be pinned down, I will bow to you!

I’ve heard there is a big difference between the idea
and the experience, but because you are way beyond
both, yet also most intimate, I bow down to you!

A blank state of mind, devoid of any thought —
that is simply the mansion of delusion, but because
you are a fire burning down the house, I bow to you!

Since you are always free from all extremes, far beyond
any description, utterly awake as the fundamental state
of clear light and pure awareness, I bow down to you!

Because you clear away the blinding darkness of confusion,
pacifying the nadis and giving birth to uncontrived humor,
I will make up poems for you as I bow down to you!

Some sages claim whatever appears is mind, and mind
itself is as empty as the vast expanse of sky, but even if
the dead gurus never said a word, I bow down to you!

I may realize that everything and everyone is composed
of the same illusory tricks as any video game, and consist
of the same stuff as a virtual reality. Still, I bow down to you!

In the lower levels of the dream are many types of entities,
some are fearsome and quite disturbing, but you show us how
to recognize their false claims and promises, so I bow to you!

Some beings are in a state which can only be described as
confused, lost, or beset by panic and fear. These are the ones
you comfort with your motherly affection, so I bow to you!

The higher astral worlds are very beautiful, with features which
are truly stunning, filled with wonders, and yet you descend
to this dense realm to answer our prayers, so I bow to you!

You yourself, as yourself, are heaven, you are truth, you are
the highest sacrament. You are Buddha, you are the sangha,
the Perfection of Wisdom, so naturally I will bow to you!

I see you as the Goddess, you see me as the God. By joining
in this ecstatic union, we make the holy sacrifice to each other.
Since there is no greater worship than this, I bow down to you!

You are identical to the bodies of all women — there is no other
way you can be worshiped except by the worship of all women,
and because you’ve shown this truth to me, I bow down to you!

You said: “Don’t torture yourself by asceticism! Seeing form,
look! Listen to sounds, inhale scents, taste flavors, feel textures.
Using the senses, you attain Buddhahood.” Thus, I bow to you!

You are the cosmic lover who bestows bliss on the passionate.
By abandoning all conceptual thought and uniting with you,
all the hopelessness swiftly vanishes, so I bow down to you!

Perhaps it is actually the shadow which wants
to explore itself, with the same desire as an eager
new lover for the body of the shy beloved.

Sometimes now in the late afternoon, we like to
sit together, reading amazing poems to each other,
exchanging pictures of interest, talking about God.

We both know that you’re my light, I’m your shadow,
but then we can switch positions, and now I become
your love light, and you my darling shadow.

We say this is how God enjoys itself. God divides
itself in two in order to play light and shadow games.
Meanwhile, we sit together, watching it all unfold.

In just this way, the whole universe playfully
appears, how everything existent comes to be —
like a magic act, or a laughing ripple on a stream.

Maybe it’s an afternoon in timelessness, perhaps
just like now, and God is wanting to explore itself,
its two-in-one nature, simply for the joy of it.

Let’s imagine there’s a lyrical love poem that God
is longing to hear, so much so that here we be —
you and me — all for the sake of God-poetry!

Then again, you are sipping on your first coffee while gazing out the window into your front yard when a large flock of pearl-grey doves descends from above on the fruiting Cherry tree and begins feeding greedily on the ripe fruit in a blurry frenzy of motion, the crimson juice smearing their beaks, staining their iridescent feathers red, and then suddenly they rise into the air as one immense being, fly off in a swirl into the vast blue void of a mountain morning sky, leaving not a single cherry behind.

And then there was the time the little Hermit Thrush collided into the front window, and you quickly ran out to see if he had survived, but he was lying on his back, his spindly little legs stuck straight up in the air, and you gently picked him up, you wrapped him in a soft towel to keep him warm, you let your own life flow out into the tiny creature, your love, and you set him down in a box, on a bed of bunched cloth, you waited as his soul flew out into the heavens and learned everything a bird could ever know, and then he returned at last, went straight up to a nearby perch in the tall pine, and there he was joined by a hummingbird, and they sat for a very long time, together, and then he flew away, but now he returns again and again — you named him.

just the remembered sound of rain in the night,
a warm wind, the windows wide open, breathing,
moving in the dark with her, mindless ecstasy;

looking up suddenly in the grammar school play yard,
a formation of bombers leaving long white smoke trails
across a perfectly clear blue sky, roar of jet engines;

the taste of a victory Coca Cola after the ball game,
team mates all shouting and clapping, the broad smile
on the face of your father in the stands, applauding;

a swift pull on the fishing line, then the startling leap
of a Rainbow Trout, the pounding heart, the desperate
contest, the taste of fresh fish from the campfire;

scrolling through endless spreadsheets in the office,
then downloading the face of a saint on the new computer,
the breathlessness as the file slowly opened, mind stopped;

standing at her door at dawn, the cry of two peacocks,
the rain as we drove away, the music playing on the radio,
us laughing like never before, the old ache pacified at last;

the endless blizzard, finally crawling out the second story
window, the city shut down, people skiing through the streets,
trying to get to work, turning back, the sound of snowplows;

leaving the known behind, no longer caring, then kneeling
before the old Asian master, the game today transparent,
now the fist shoots straight up, a sudden shout — free;

a small sleeping dog curled in your lap before the fire,
the daylight fading in the window at dusk, a glass
of wine to wash away the random brief regrets;

and each memory fragment is quickly followed by another,
until they all conflate together in a cascade of emotions,
then a gradual dissipation, pooling at last in a silence
where nothing is remembered, nothing is revealed.