Saturday, January 19, 2008

Lojong Poems: Three


Lojong Poems: Three

Examine the nature of unborn awareness


the word comes to me wrapped
in cobwebs, a collection of dusty
cravings for comfort, familiarity

is that my definition,
the image in the mirror?

forty years :: answering to a name
a word, something less
than who I am

what is my original face,
the moment before
sperm entered egg?

was I vast as the sky?
was my body the Kosmos?

it feels strange to wake
each morning, having been born,
to feel cool air
on my skin, then
the shower's hot water

this body is not me
these feelings are not me
these thoughts do not define my self

questions are shackles,
a prison of flesh,
the mirror reveals nothing

one night when I was young, I made love with C for what seemed an eternity, everything dropped away, and in that vacuum I knew who I was, my original face :: there was no me, no us, no time, only bliss, unencumbered by the cold isolation of these bones, these thoughts :: only the expansive present

is that the answer, the union of two souls,
the loss of self when one gives everything
to the other, a heart open and tender?

so long I have sought escape,
the absence of craving,
the eradication of desire

then, one night, it is all brought back,
the need for her touch, the passion
of simply holding her in my arms

I had give up these feelings,
abandoned this hope

but in her arms I am not me,
not this body, not
this longing for something else

the alchemists were almost correct,
but it is not gold that sets the soul free

rather, it is the elixir of blood
and semen, the union of opposites,
the taste of humanity
joined in exaltation

in that moment, so long ago now,
I glimpsed the truth,
the face beyond the mirror

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