Another Song from the Tavern

You asked me to drop
every concept

of 'Other' and 'God,'

so I did.

Then I abandoned ‘Trauma'
and 'Embodiment' too.

Love is not a story.

Now I sink into

the infinite physiology of light,

my true flesh.

This stillness in my chest

is an unbroken pour.

It doesn’t flow from 'there' to 'here,'

but quivers in the void,

a braid of black lightning.

The taste is beyond

name, thought, and breath.

I call it sweet wine, but that

is the language of fools and lovers

whose tale has drowned in silence.

I will never know who tilted

fullness toward emptiness

and made the starry rim of
this cup overflow
with a wonder no longer
called 'me.'

But I still say 'thank you, Friend.'

I still ask,

'Was there a journey in that pour?

Or have I always

already arrived

at the Tavern of Awakening?'

 

 

Painting by Mahmoud Farshchian