Perhaps you didn't notice how,
when you awoke this morning,
you took your first breath
having shifted to another world
where atoms vibrate to a different Law.
It doesn't matter anymore
if you are on the Left or Right,
Christian or Muslim, a do-er
or non-doer, of the North or the South.
It doesn't matter anymore
whether you see One or Two.
You need not wear a veil here
in the softer daylight where
the only authority is Presence.
The tribe you once belonged to
leaves no scent.
The glow of your essential oil
anoints the meadows now,
greening branches, thickening fur,
the hungry ones who need a touch, a tear,
no longer drawn by your beliefs,
but by your musk and radiance.
It matters not what movement you join
or which master you follow,
as long as she is the one who descends
through your breath, blossoming
in the splendor of your chest,
and you rest in your hollow,
in your core of healing silence,
this formless flower that keeps
opening its golden cup
of overwhelming fragrances,
distilled from the dark furrow
that runs down your body.
Arise and come, begin your task.
The whole earth thirsts for your light,
dear love, the way it rainbows
through your face like no other.
Hear the new song flowing out of you:
“Chitananda Rupam, Shivoham, Shivoham:
I am the divine, I am the divine,
the very form of consciousness and bliss.”
Don't ask what work you will do.
Just keep listening for this music
in the heart of every stranger.
