The Guru…

Who Goes There? (Photo Credit: Rakhi Varma)

The guru’s mind is empty
Like the space revealed when the mist above a lake
Parts effortlessly at dawn…
His heart is the throb of all Existence, and
His body, dust blowing in the wind
Free of the four directions…
What he knows, knows no end, no beginning
And what he understands
Is the heart of silence.

Go, become that space, that heart, that dust
Don’t be worthy, be audacious, begin at the end:
Pretend, wear him, stand in front of the mirror
Like a child who wears his father’s shoes to
Become father – and he does.
On your way, you’ll need two things:
Faith, which means that you let go of
Everything that can be known or held or said
And longing, which means that all you
Know, hold or say is
Many ways of saying: “Who am I?
I am that. I am that. I am that.”

Red Herrings, a poem

Is The Gaze Blue (Photo Credit: Tove Ilher)

The common thing between this
dark descending slowly, and this winter bird
…and your melancholy
is that there’s no true reason behind any.
Don’t look for causes –
They are red herrings
meant to keep you from looking
at the answer behind:
The unchanging sky, where
all things come and go
in the folding and unfolding
of pure Emptiness.

The Day, That Very Day

Helena Scherfbeck, 1862 – 1946, Finnish Artist

The day you hear that river
Burst through the old ice
And begin to flow deep inside you
Go away far, be roaming and irreverent

Like a tiger, hungry…
For the only one who needs you the most now
Is you.

Go, lie on the open body of grass –
For it is both small and endless…
It can understand, wordlessly
When you tell it that
You are erupting like a tiny seed
That carries the blues of creation in its void.

And for once, don’t be afraid
Of that precious light
They call madness and prescribe ways to cure…
Use it for what it is meant:
The only proven method
To get the world out of your way.