Dearest, I’ll seek the secret to liberation,

as soon as this bed lets go of me.

In a dream I waited in line

for communion at Christmastime.

When I reached the beaming priest,

he held no white wafer,

& never said “The body of Christ.”

Instead, he gestured broadly around us,

& firmly, warmly whispered

“The body of Light.

This is the body of Light.” 

The longest journey begins

at the base of the spine,

& ends at the crown of the head ~

seventh heaven, God-intoxication.

Our words lose their bodies

in this ocean of breath.

Sun & moon share

one soul between them,

& you & I

are cut from the same cloth.

The coffee you often

let sit in your cup,

which you probably left for the angels,

I privately pour into my form

to mesh with your silky spirit.

Dear one, you alone know

I am hungry for nothingness,

how my inner voice chants

“let go of everything,

let go of everything!”

Heavy worries, work, mask.

You sent me a twilight reminder,

writing “Let go everything!”

I love how you left out the ‘of.’

“Let go everything!”

Nothing holds us at all.

Neither breath nor false concepts

nor webs of eloquent words.