to where you are?
No one escapes this miracle
of embodiment,
not even God.
When the Teacher says,
you are not your body,
say, I Am.
This moss-green stone is my flesh,
so ancient it was here
before I was born.
The Milky Way is my flesh
pouring over the mountain.
You are my flesh, stranger.
I am yours.
Bound by the limits
of lymph node, bone,
gristle and tear
is a heart that has no edges.
A bee asleep on a withered mum.
A center whose circle can't
quite catch its tail.
The light that has not yet reached us
is my body.
The fragrance of next Spring's flowers.
The musk of an elk on thistle.
Consider also the dark matter
of dreams.
Your dreams are my flesh.
Don't you long to return
to where you are?
Thoughts won't enlighten you.
Beliefs won't save you.
The past won't comfort you.
The future won't complete you.
Love only happens
in this breath,
this moment,
Dis body.