Tender Place

There's a tender place at the top of your head where your inhalation kisses trillions of stars. You meet your Teacher here, in this kiss, and the illusion of distance disappears. The chalice of the farthest galaxy overflows with nectar. What others may say about your Teacher doesn't matter. For this one doesn't seem like a Teacher to you, but a Friend. Your most ancient companion, whom you haven't seen for 27 billion years. It is quite a reunion, and there are tears at both ends of eternity. Yet you shrink away, fearing that your sins and imperfections make you unworthy. Have a little courage. The Friend isn't interested in your sins, but in your heart. And how does your heart appear to the Friend? As a perfect jewel, covered in the dust of thought, which the Friend will polish until it shines like the sun. For it is the sun. And this gentle work of polishing the heart is your own breath.

Gratitude to Aile Shebar for this flower.