Black Whole

The supreme art of the shaman,
supreme art of the mystic,
supreme art of the artist,
is to disappear.
Vanish,
then see what remains.
Impeccable delight!
Miraculous energy
exploding out of emptiness!
When in doubt, dissolve.
If your mind is confused,
let it evaporate.
What’s left is the Heart.
Are the constellations
not woven in these sunbeams?
Does the full moon not
caress you at noon,
and your ancestors surround you
as the nectar of space?
No-thing is the source
of creation,
the origin of joy.
When this becomes clear
you are everywhere
and immortal.
Your fingers see.
Your toes taste wine.
The vast black whole
in your chest is filled
with star music.
Become nobody,
the dark matter
in every soul.
Become the groundless
depth in both
Lover and Beloved.
Become silence,
the womb of light,
the hidden Mother.
Never be afraid
to disappear.

Image from Newsweek