The Mystic’s Dream

A mystic dives into the clear

summer sea through garlands

of seaweed he sees

a navel of eels

spiraling upwards.

He pauses his crafty strokes

and ponders the meaning of this.

The sun flashes through his

humming ears and sharks

pull at his sorcerer’s cape.

A word immerses his thoughts

and the pit is pulled from

underneath.

He drowns with the hungry

sharks until there is no more

of his mind to eat,

and is left to circumnavigate

the sun from the surface

under the deep,

reflecting the movements

of the upward swimming

eels.

What days to come?

What days to come will run, will swim,

Will drag me by the hair?

Will flood, will dry, will crash

Into my boundaries?

All I know is that you’ll be there

To cause me pain, to lift my joy,

To take away my grief.

You are time, you are the sea of consciousness,

You are Eternity, you are me.

Be the Wind that carries You

Close your eyes
and be the bird
upon the wind
stretch your wings
and be the wind
that carries you

Close your eyes
and be the air
that moves the wind
abandon your boundaries
and be the breath
that births the being