Surrender the distinction
between Bhakti and Advaita.
Why distill the sky from its sunbeams?

In the desert of awareness
there's a blue-green mirage,
a garden in the void to make it juicy.

Oneness melts into longing
for the Lord of Mirrors.

If your goal is emptiness,
you'll miss the fullness of his glance,
but if you seek Sundara's lips
you'll breathe mist on the window
of your own light.

Therefor go down to the teardrop
dangling from the tip of your causeless root,
and awaken the vine that clusters
your rib cage with sweet grapes of fire.

The highest meditation is to serve
the hungry and poor.
The highest service is deep

I can't comprehend this.
When you figure it out,
don't bother to tell me.

I am too busy singing the name
of my beloved,
and the earth will starve
without my song.