I SENSE THE SUBTERRANEAN

This morning I sense the subterranean
Lethe of pain that surges through each
earthly atom. My tears are monuments
of emptiness, through which I see
the radiance of un-knowing:
that this is not my pain alone
but the ancient lash all humans share;
the wise arterial bloodstream of our ancestors;
the vomiting gasp of the newborn amazed
by betrayals; the oozing laceration of what
we've done to one another without taking time
for scar tissue; the redounding ache
of unnecessary blame, this throb of wanting
to forgive but not understanding how.
I surrender to uncertainty this morning,
the faith that I will surely taste a wellspring
of darkness gushing out of my chest
where the piercing is deepest, and will follow
this river of affliction to its source.
I will enter the blackest hole in every
uncreated star, which is the temple
of the wound in the smallest creature.
I will keen the uterine pang of primal
separation from the One. I am here
not for joy or sorrow, but possession.
Let me possess and be possessed by abundance,
by the sum, by the whole and not any part.
Let me give it all away with every heartbeat.
I am here to say Yes, this must surely be a world
where pain and beauty are inconsolable lovers.
Yes, all our bodies are suspended in the stillness
between breaths, like dust in a sourceless
golden beam. To each I say, “You are the sun!”
I am here to dissolve my photons in the void
and make my body solid as a lightning bolt.
To drink sweet tea brewed from thorns.
To finally see that the petals of the rose
won't slice my flesh like whirling crimson knives,
because there are no edges.