NOT A THOUSAND PROSTRATIONS
(Inspired by Mary Oliver)
1.
You do not have to
change your name
in order for god
to love you.
You are not required to rise
at a certain hour
nor wear a robe
of a prescribed color
because that’s what
the others have chosen to do.
You needn’t make
the thousand prostrations
nor circumnavigate the holy mountain
a hundred times
nor dwell on an image
of an imaginary form
until you think
that being is who you are.
But you must wash your heart again and again
in the pure fountain where sanctity dwells.
You must cleanse your spirit many times over
in the cauldrons of love.
Only love, my friend,
can take you there.
Only the fiercest seekers
find the way.
2.
Still no one requires
that you be perfect,
that you turn away from the world
and live in a dark cavern
like a saint preparing to ascend.
Or that you stripe you back
with lashes, expiation
for the world’s gross blunders,
your own hidden miscalculations.
It isn’t even necessary
to be fully informed,
to know all about everything,
or even a single thing,
for that matter.
What is important
is to be who you are,
to come ahead
with your small allotment of wisdom
garnered through the years,
your residue of compassion
eager to be shared.
If you paused to feed the pigeons
in the park one day,
that will count for you.
If you saw what was happening
to the forest
or spoke out against the sullying
of the noble sea,
heard the cry of the children
or the rising drums of war
and raised your voice in protest,
that will suffice..
Meanwhile,
dance as naked as you can.
Breathe your secret breath.
Let the world’s warm currents
enter your body,
show you the way.
I CANNOT TELL YOU
I do not know
if god
is a thing
or a process,
or a being
or a presence.
I cannot tell you
how the world
was constructed,
or when it began
or by whom.
I cannot unravel
the tables of meaning,
the diagrams
and the scales of comparison,
the charts and the long explanations
of everything
that has ever been.
What I know is this:
this moment,
this kiss,
this infinite longing,
endless loving and being loved
by no one
who has a name
in a place
that does not exist.
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