Indra's Net

Pre-dawn.

Stepping into dark protected timber acreage of a once massive forest,
passing over woodchip paths amongst outdoor classroom
(almost as if the remaining trees need a reminder of their place—in the dirt)
follow the path deep then deviate;
the beaten has never been my way.

Begin moving toward winding stream knowing
few take time to weave in and out of brambles, brush, and thorn thickets, but
this is the way it was and will be:
no cut paths, no trespass, no bipedal transgression.
No easy access.

Do not seek the path, let the path find you.

Far enough in one forgets the rape of the natural world,
even though the buzzing interstate insect routes may still be heard.
Remember your role in the Great Mother’s play.
Pass no judgment on those unaware of their parts in something greater than themselves.
As I cross the stream a dimly rippling reflection reminds me of the same.

There is no difference.

Perceive each moment as direct communication with the divine,
move without being moved. For matter, motion is the rule;
both mirror the time spent not knowing.
Logic incises ancient wisdom from frontal-lobed tree dwellers.

Lost in these thoughts, eastward I climb a hill so that She may present me a gift,
an earthy place of respite to greet the slowly waking Sun
soon to peer over the horizon to claw its way across the sky.
Green buds of a sapling slither around the bleached bones
of a once mighty tree’s open palm beckoning me
to sit and wait for the fiery eye of energy.

Here the air is crisp, honest, primordial.

Deep draw from filled pipe, hold it in, feel the wave of brain change
clear away accumulated cognitive cobwebs,
smoky exhalation mixes with steamy breath in the moist cool morning mist.
Sacramental offerings are exchanged,

symbiosis of carbon dioxide inhaled into woody lungs
and The Heavenly Chi absorbed by alveoli
—She doesn’t mind, She made it so that we might see.
Calm rhythmic breathing quiets the urge to cogitate,
focused mind moves to still body, awareness dilates, at ease now—meditate.

Melt into the One & None. Becoming. Became. Be gone.

A slow synergetic gestalt of condensed cosmic vibrations,
undulating in twined harmony, folding resonance fabric
—life experiencing itself subjectively.
Reawaken from trance, say a silent prayer.

Om. Shanti. Om. Shanti.

Prepare to reenter cultural soma revitalized
to liberate sleeping beauty from societal coma.

Rising Son.

∆˚