Drink Up

 

Why waste your life believing 

that the constellations are above

and the earth below,

only to discover too late, too late, 

that sunlight gushes 

from the pores of your skin?

Why travel from here to there? 

All journeys are over 

but the deepening of now. 

Your heartbeat is the shaman's drum. 

Don't move: be moved. 

One treasure is left to find: 

the radiance you already were 

before you started the search. 

Feel the nerve in your body

where dancing begins.

Let that tremor spread

among the galaxies.

Science and religion
are no longer required

when you capture the sun 

in a synapse of your ancient brain.

A fountain of something like starlight

rises up your spine,

spilling over, showering the earth

with burning seeds of wonder,

gold as the stuff in Mary's womb.

Now drink up the rest of this day.

Bask in yourself 

and squander the Kingdom!

Spring is an intuition crinkled in cocoons: 

your laughter can do something about that. 

Ferns make fists all Winter, 

waiting for you to breathe a little deeper.

Fall down among the bulbs in this black soil

on the one world that is really yours, 

and touch the heavens with your knees.