Beneath


When you meditate,
stop all that reaching
upward for the sun.
Bodies of joy don't fly.
They are weighted down
with jewels of emptiness,
pearls of compassion.
Sink deeper than these ripples
where small fish swim and
thoughts nibble your toes.
I mean drown, drown
in the silence that swells
with waveless solitude,
and names are swallowed
by the Sea of Unknowing.
Don't worry about your breath.
There, one inhalation lasts
forever, one prayer sigh
brings you Home.
When you emerge from
those waters, dripping starlight,
waders on the shore will
whisper, "Who is that
gleaming creature of darkness?"

And you will sing to them
about the radiant
treasures of the deep.