A young pandit
with infinity
in his eyes
smiles

When I ask
if I may pour
the holy prasad
into the roots
of the sacred
Peepal tree

The heart-shaped
leaves dance
as I approach
silk sari
fluttering
colors

They dance
before
and
after
dance
always
all is bliss
to the devas
of this lovely tree

I am thinking about newly-hatched sea turtles,
and about how perfectly formed they are.

And about how, with independent instinct,
they head straight for the open ocean.

In our dream worlds,
where convention holds no sway,
we do the same.

Left to our own unencumbered instincts,
and when we are rested and happy,
we make choices that nourish our souls,
and the souls of those around us.

Finding a point of origin,
and finding where we belong,
are two sides of the selfsame coin.

Trundling into the sea of our own authenticity
may seem too simple, lacking in choice.

It is our bravest, most definitive act.

As vital to our real survival,
as to those tiny beings,
who innocently do as they must.

As perfect as a child's drawing,
a snowy mountain framed by
equally sloping, emerald foothills.

Only six chalets,
and soft-eyed cows meander,
their hand-hammered bells
the only sound.

It is early evening,
and a young family visits
the alpine botanical garden
in the center of the valley.

As the light fades,
the father crouches down
to photograph the hidden
worlds of these tiny flowers.

Vines of sound wind around my heart.
Wind of distant passion blows in
a changeable east wind.

Take me with you
to your interior landscape,
and I promise to ask no questions.

Shadows of late afternoon sunlight
tremble silently on the wall beside us,
listening to the battling of my heart.

Time and again
I have been undone by you.

Zeus himself stands by, admiring
your tricky disguises.

The simpler and more transparent
the convincing illusion
that you are some other man,
the more dangerous
the dissembling.

It is always you.
Always will be you.

And this will happen again
as it is happening now.

Many mornings now,
as day opens its sky eyes
to early sunlight,

Silence pervades all that I am,
or might ever want to be.

Speaking is natural, and life goes on,
but for the tug on my heart,
to go deeper, ever deeper
into the ocean of silence.

Ancient lands of my ancestry
are calling me
to come home now
and
be near the sea.

My own sea, salty and blue,
red rocks plunging
into stormy union
with ultramarine.

Be that I was selkie, I was mermaid,
I know these places where I lived and loved,
breathing underwater in perfect, silent freedom.

Perfection, a sidhi,
might be,
to live as a sadhvi selkie.

Knowing timelessness
through ancient, silent wisdom,
feeling, loving, living
and swimming in unboundedness.

From the door inside your mind that opens on today,
on over to the bend in the road that was unforeseen,
is the greatest, most joyful adventure ever,
and it is all happening here within you!

Find yourself in the territory of untamable goodness,
And the freedom of that exquisite sweetness on your tongue!

Never be afraid, ever again, to write down your deepest heart,
To speak your most illumined, unbounded mind!

Every color, every sound, every kiss, every cry, every life,
All of everything is here to be honored, for just what it is!

*Hug your own heart as no one else can, until or unless
Someone comes along to do it better, but just keep writing!

Do I know what you are thinking?
Perhaps....
But come into my kitchen,
and let's see if this other fragrance
makes your nose swoon....

Bright red little apples,
spooned with a sweet,
slightly spicy sauce
soften,
turn pink,
exposed to quite  
another
kind of heat...

And that fragrance,
well...

Close your eyes...

Yes...

That's it!