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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.

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