Here’s how it goes.
Slowly, with waywardness and ease,
first as meditation, then with reiteration
that suspends disbelief
imagine a stream
followed, eddy by current,
to its source.
On the way sink in
and settle in the bluest of pools
Then, stream and pond, movement and repose,
like a fish darting from lake to stream,
waterfall to light, from droplets to mist,
to air, let the wind carry you
to the first of the hidden lagoons,
the falls above, as distant
and as near as the moon to the sun.
In that undisturbed grotto,
twining image and form,
if the sun, drawn by the in-breath,
rises at the base of the spine,
the moon riding the outbreath
gathers and holds its heat
below the navel. When the sun rises
to the breath-filled heart,
the waxing moon catches its rays
in the throat. As the heart
holds back its beat, above my eyes
the sun crests. Awash with long shallow breaths
the full moon shades and cools my brow.
Facing east at dawn, west
at dusk, and at night deep into the dark,
gauging movement by the sun
and rest by the moon, mind in its element,
astride the breath, unravels
and traverses an archipelago of light
as insubstantial as this morning’s
May the sun and moon
accompany our days and nights,
embodied in practice, present in meditation.
In the expanse of everyday life,
with their blessing, may expression arise,
steadfast and sure. May these words carry me
beyond words. May the fool in me
succumb to childlike wisdom
and its inarticulate bliss.
Though I am caught in the net of self-delusion,
may these words from the heart
lead none astray