The heart's curves
What is incomprehensible
will make way for grace.
What is painful will expand
into spacious acceptance.
What is neither black nor white
will rise up as our jewelled inheritance
from the suns of worlds to come.
All that we cannot see nor understand
is the penultimate prasad or offering
surrendered and simultaneously received
as its simple naturalness of being.
In every holding, every doubt and every fear
is a divine paradoxical ache of longing
for it's own true nature;
that of spontaneous primordial joy
and love beyond cause and effect.
When the mind learns to lean
on the beauty of the heart’s curves
of rising and falling,
ebb and flow,
extending and receding,
there is rest to be found
in motion, emotion,
energy in motion.
When every unfathomable contradiction
and unanswerable question
has burnt a hole through your tired mind,
and you are finally broken open
to your own helpless ignorance,
your open heart will come to visit you, with gold,
frankincense and myrrh in the form of tears
or song, and whisper to you
all you ever needed
and always knew
all along.
