Don’t let anyone market
your innocence
and sell it back to you
as a spiritual technique.
Just blow mantra bubbles
like a baby.
Suck distant galaxies
through your bellybutton.
In an instant your intellect
will plummet through light-years
of surrender
into the starry darkness
of your diaphragm.
Rest in the silence
before the question arises:
that is the answer.
Thousands of years ago,
Ashtavakra shouted,
“Layam vraja! Dissolve now!"
Why not return
to the hollow center
of a star, the blackness
where God has not yet said,
"Let there be light"?
When the thought, I Am, arises
let it pass, a petal
floating on a stream
of abysmal transparency.
Only dreamers
take the night-journey.
Real pilgrims never leave Om.
They wander round and round
at dawn, truly loving
the shape of zero.
NASA photo: Heart Nebula
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