Samadhi

 

On one side embers,

the old juice

thickens, tries to catch and hold

my precious fire-berries.

Something grasps me,

memory holds me animate,

words can’t find-

in stumbling tongue,

searching.

Dark mind inside,

coiled, hidden.

A secret,

a mission,                 

a secret mission.

My mental toil,

within these temperamental walls,

hidden in darkness

the soul silently leaps from the mountain side,

rising again, fundamentally creased.

 

People are shouting

into the sky, into the earth,

between the critical turn of a thousand futile handshakes,

the crimson shame

breaks hope,

holds out strings of blossom

with thin arms

to a spent planet.

 

Way behind the laughter lines

reality tunnels through the core.

Instincts rise up,

tied on

like an apron.

If the string falls,

I die,

even though I know

it’s an illusion.

The body can’t take the burning

it cries out,

basic in its strangeness.

Blood, skin and bone,

bone under velvet.

The monster in the closet.

The monster beneath the velvet,

hell heart,

beating everyone.

 

Inside everything,

inside mine.

Crust.

And static.

Imaginatively put together to look like someone.

Inside crust and static,

looking empty,

flowing upwards,

cutting through,

tumbling out, out into the middle.

 

The white birds eat grain,

go where the food is. Follow.

The mountain comes to the market place,

taking the big breath.

In.

In.

Back straight,

legs bent,

light spills

across the wall.

 

 

Counting the toes to venerate presence,

biting flesh,

coarse between teeth that prattle.

 

A cold morning,

a hard frost,

a darkened wall:

the body freezes,

the blood slows.

 

I break away

like a calving glacier

into the ocean.

The escalating moment

dawns

sunless,

everything lights up

from the inside.

 

Caught in sudden

Silence,

the body

forgets to breath.

In.

In.

Mud into mud,

the whole mountainside slips against the core.

Lacking edges, the drama unfolds

without the creased messiah,

without portent.

Humbled I kneel,

stunned-

knowing

nothing.

 

The stranger, selfless.

The arm in the snow,

blood creeping into pinkness,

dilute.

Resolute.

Tumbling out

master of nothing.

 

Time hints,

bell and wood

bid us rise

and

we walk.

Trailing our glory behind us

we stream into each other,

fluent as a slow river.

We move faster,

the body shifts

immense,

wielding whole countries,

the feet tread continental drift,

galactic hands

grip,

solar-

plexus

gleam.

 

I am gone into the morning-

becoming my mother

and my father.

Furthering the famished belly,

snarling in solitude.

 

The open window,

the breeze,

the cool air discerning nothing.

The skin is new.

Skin within skin.

We sit

in close communion,

breathing water and birds.

 

In.

In.

Out.

Out.