Temple Door

There's a priceless diamond

inside your chest.

Why stop to buy trinkets

on the steps of the temple?

They are for tourists and pilgrims,

but you live here.

The door is always open.

Step into the darkness

where you were glowing 

before your first breath

and the silence hummed

your true Name

before you were conceived.

Rest in your original body.

The one with edges is just a shell. 

The real one has empty hands,

half-parted lips about to sing, 

bare soles covered with soot  

from other buildings, burnt and fallen,

an eye that never sleeps

shining between two wells,

the fountain of laughter 

and the spring of tears.

Here you have a boundless heart 

inside the one that beats.

This shrine isn't holy, 

or secret, or hard to find.

Nothing carved in marble.

No priests, no experts.

It's a place where your 

guru appears

as an ordinary person.

Where everyone whispers, I Am,

yet each of us is incomparable. 

Friend, isn't it time

to give up the journey

toward being right? 

Come home.

Learn to smile again.

Master the skill of repose.

Photo: Entrance to the Sun Temple in Modhera, Gujarat, India