[Opening line announced itself end of May. The rest came through yesterday after listening to the great thunderstorm and days of consequent downpour; brief synchronized vision accompaniments of Gajalakṣmī and Csodaszarvas, in knowing relationship with each other, and Kabir behind them, tossing pebbles into a small angled river or stream] Received 6/4/2023 | ~6:30pm
PRECIPITOUS PROSPERITUS
proSpiritus Prospectus Perspecacious
Listen, says Kabir,
I have a prayer to make.
Shri-Lakshmi sits with me
A gold and a silver elephant
Trumpeting at her sides, lifting
Her me up onto a lotus stage,
Tumbling, skipping, laughing,
Headed for the village of Death.
The prosperity of space is known
In its sadness. In the blink
Of an eye, the king will be
Separated from his kingdom, waiting
For the Ferry, pregnant for Paradise.
Lakṣ is to know, perceive, define
Lakṣa, the goal, the great objective
And Lakṣaṇa the auspicious sign, symptom
Lucky opportunity that spills a chain
Of lotuses, peachy sunset toned and
Glowing, from her left hand, smiling.
The tree with flowering roots is the key
To unlock your handcuffs to death—
Not so you can be rid of death, but
So you can be free, with death.
Prescriptions, preScriptures, the script is
Broken; our vision must be corrected
With lenses, carefully crafted, housed
In frames, placed over our Eyes,
So we can see more Clearly
The world in front of us.
God doesn't make mistakes:
Eyes were born to be a-mended
Avatars modified, altered, altars
Of our incarnation, upon which
to place our intentions, our goals
perceptions, of What we desire,
what we wish for, to see as
apparitions before us; all is Māyā
And nothing else. Om Mahāmāyā
Namaha. Embrace illusion.
The Matrix Aspect, we honor you
The bed and heart of all creation
All beauty and all bounty
She is your ticket to freedom.
Shri and Aum, recite them both
The eminent and the immanent
Emanating the universal in part
And particulation, participation
Mystique; Om Shreem…
Intentions and Extensions reflect
Eachother, but are not quite eachother.
Intend and Extend. One's left hand is
The other's right. Tend to what is within.
Tend to what is extra to you.
Move everything until everything moves.
Until you move, nothing will move.
Open your windows and feel the wind
Let it in. Let it all go. Let it all
Go. Let it all in. Uitwaaien.
Great Goddess Lakshmi, divinely
Resplendent, Embodiment of Absolute Bliss.
The Buddha knew you. Lustre of burnished
Gold, blazing with splendor. The Vedas
Sing of you. And I sing with them.
Bestower of fame and prosperity
Incapable of defeat or threat
Ever healthy, abundant in grace
Who shines like gold, brilliant like
The Sun, beautiful like the Moon.
Powerfully fragrant, radiant with
Ornaments; who wields the rod of suzerainty
Adorned with lotuses, lifted by celestial
Elephants in worship, of you.
Presiding over all nourishment
Yellow in color, decked in garlands
Ever unfailing, who directs us, guides us
To the Great Goal. The golden antelope.
Trails of sweet-smelling au-spices
Pure emerald. Everything is growing.
Csodaszarvas, the miraculous Stag,
Adorned with sparkling stars, the morning
star its crown jewel. Lead us
To the wide and fruitful basin.
Where you go, we will follow,
Chasing, mad, frenzied in love
Racing every stagnant sink of energy
Combusting outward, out of the depths
Of our decayed roots, to the very edges,
Now blooming, blossoming, covered in
Pink and Purple, iridescent petals
Tumbling, skipping, laughing up, as
They fall, higher and further into the
Soil of Space, precipitating into Something.
Cardinals sing with Mourning Doves
To my untrained ear these doves sound like
Owls. I am surprised and amused every
Time. There is wisdom in mourning.
Remember to mourn, even (and especially)
When we know that death is an entrance
Into glory. Mourn, and let go, and
Move. Movement is needed in life.
Nothingness mourns its own loss of self
As it becomes, as it prospers into
What is beyond and sprouts forth from it.
The past is an illusion. Embrace it.
Mourn what is no longer now. Nothing
is not now. Not even Nothing.
Rejoice, and become full, condense,
And rain. Rain, rain, rain, for days.
Rain unending. Ceaseless rain.
Dance inside. Dance outside. We
do not desire for what we do not
Have.
We already have it.
The stars at the ends of the hind's
Antlers glimmer and fade in the fog
Which clears, breathless, to reveal
A lush, wide, open plain. Sparkling waters.
Distant mountaintops. Waving golden grains.
It is so beautiful you don't realize
That the hind has vanished
That your horse has stopped racing
That the chase is complete.
That the great goal is reached.
Dismount. You dismounted long ago.
This is how you were meant to be.
And your awareness is just now
Catching up.
Ya Qabid, Ya Kabir, Ya Rashid.
Three Divine Names, leading one into
The next. The source of all contraction.
To the infinite, incomparable greatness, vastness.
To the state of unerring guidance, unlimited,
Infinitely manifesting into each and every thing.