Fragrance of Grace

The fragrance of grace is a gift,
but you must make your own honey.
Listen to a darker silence inside silence.
This is the sugar of creation
where emptiness blossoms.
Yet if you make the slightest effort,
it sours into philosophy.
Throw away thinking.
Let go of concentration.
Sink into the heart.
Pollen condenses on your forehead
whether you breathe in or out.
Don't do nothing, do even less.
The bells in your spine will sing
softer than orchids
when your pistil and stamen kiss.
This bee-hum is your name,
wings vibrating invisibly.
Buzzing lovers with sticky feet
gather around you to glut themselves
with the nectar of that sound,
the wine of the Goddess Shakti.
This is when you break the news and say,
"The fragrance of grace is a gift,
but you must make your own honey."

 

Photo by Aile Shebar