The wings of my thought
are too short to climb God’s height
or blue deeps of peace:
I stand on the edge of
earth’s physicality
elements clack
in the small house shudder
the harp and strings
I don’t know how
the bones grow in the womb
still in darkness
the heartbeats pronounce
the balance of nature
look for body’s love–
the mystery song echoes
some truths not spoken
the mind creates
withdrawn to its own pleasures
a green thought
behind the banyan tree
behind the flickering lust
painting the glow
in the green forest
unseen fingers
how to weigh the breath
the flame the soul or the ash
the body conceals:
I can’t turn my inside out
nor know life’s weight when lifeless
each death a passage
to surprise the dead-
awareness matters
between earth and sky
it disappears, one with
elements, quiet
there’s no way to know the thread
or its mechanism that binds
the heart’s rhythm:
dust smells beneath the feet
above the head
secures life now or
beyond what if I can’t feel
the weight of the color
on the leaves on the tree maybe
shrinking into itself
measure wisdom
to unknow, now lower gaze
and look within
sexless meditate
in the darkest of hours
negotiate peace
with self and rest even if
I exist in my suffering
flickers of peace
hide god in running brook:
love in nudity
I can’t awaken
nor can I rise from the ash
to be my real self
I am still lost in meanness
no third eye could locate
moistened eyes
draw me near divine
for a while
unknowable
the soul’s pursuit hidden
by its own works:
the spirit’s thirst, the strife
the restless silence, too much
my bedroom
dust-covered crucifix
still time
on the prayer mat
the hands raised in vajrasan
couldn’t contact God-
the prayer was too long and
the winter night still longer
hidden
in the cave of the heart
little fire
hiding helplessness
in the luxury of prayers
I raise a wall
a babel of deception
through cocktail of drug and desire
who sees the smoke
of the thumb-sized flame
the body burns
I can’t know her
from the body, skin or curve:
the perfume cheats
like the sacred hymns chanted
in hope, and there’s no answer
rising godward
prayers on the waving
incense stick smoke
plodding away at
season’s conspiracies
life has proved untrue
with God an empty word
and prayers helpless cries
play the seasons:
the thirst is ever new
and blissful too
discourse on heaven
and after-life pleasures
is self-bullying
to live without meaning
midst searches for the lost
half-fleshed faces
track from behind the window:
rawness of journey delta 8 moon rocks