Another Song from the Tavern

You asked me to drop every concept

of 'Other' and 'God,' so I did.

Then I abandoned words like

'Trauma' and 'Embodiment.'

Love is not a story.

Now I sink into my true flesh,

the infinite physiology of light.
This stillness in my chest

is an unbroken pour

that doesn’t flow from

'there' to 'here,'

but quivers in the void,

a braid of black lightning.

The taste is beyond

thought and breath.

I call it sweet wine,

but that is the language

of fools and lovers

whose tale gets drowned out

by silence.

I will never know who tilted

Fullness into Emptiness

and made the starry rim

of this cup overflow

with a wonder no longer

named 'me.'

But still I say 'thank you,

thank you, Friend.'

And still I ask,

'Was there a journey in that pour?

Or have I always

already arrived

at the Tavern of Awakening?'

 

 

Painting by Mahmoud Farshchian