Veil

A breath is the subtlest object of sensation. And yet it is the fragrance of the soul. When awareness meets breath, spirit and matter kiss. Heaven bends to caress the earth.

Gently brushing breath with awareness generates the friction of bhakti, kindling the flame of divine love.

At first it is a tiny spark, floating in the space just in front of your chest. But that spark suddenly consumes your whole body, like a boat full of cotton, in the terrible sweet fire of silence.

The Goddess wears your breath as a luminous veil. She hides her face behind it, practicing the most ancient and cunning modesty.

Her modesty is love play. Remember this while you fall asleep, which is to fall in love, which is to drown among galaxies clustered like living coral in the ocean of your flesh.

She will make you so vast, you will become the stillness around the whirling of the All.

You are the witness, not the dream. In the bell of your heart, hear the unstruck resonance that created the sun. O yes, as a luminous veil She wears your breath. Don't ask her name. Let her name you.

To see her face, you must be neither sleeping, nor dreaming, nor awake. You must be her mirror. You must reflect her brilliant darkness, trillions of eyes in a single tear.

Don't try to understand this. Just become the night.

Photo by Aile Shebar