Arpan’a’

Let me be bold,
let me be supremely brave
and for once loosen hold
onto my name!

Oh, those brief moments with You
in my fleeting memory,
that bitter-sweet pain
of ecstasy and agony…

We still play hide-and-seek,
fluttering timidly,
and the romance is still alive
with all its gentle cruelty.

I keep “missing” You
even when You are mine,
holding pitifully
onto my petty “I”.

When He comes
- what to do?
Nothing special:
sit stunned
or serve Him
or make love to Him
or let Him love you.

When He goes
- what to do?
Nothing special:
pity yourself
or cry for Him
or swoon in ecstasy
or write poetry.

It doesn’t matter
whether you keep it to yourself
or tell everybody
- dwell, dwell
on His presence
in your memory.

Contrasts in life aren’t enemies
but: complements.
They don’t cancel each other
but: nurture and balance.
So, let me keep that in mind
- that they aren’t only
distracting and obstructing me
but: helping me to “find”.

While it is I who doesn’t know
how to use them
and, instead, abuse
myself and them.

Which leads to a sorry end.

All my joys and interests
are much less interesting
than That Joy
which they keep me from experiencing.

And yet a little hunger
and a tiny itch
regularly manages
to distract me from pursuing It!

Then I forget
to continue on the trail
but seem to almost return
from where I began,

instead of thanking
for refreshments and repose
then go on diving deeper
till the next pause.

How strangely sweet
is this bitterness
- how interesting
and exciting
to keep picking on it
and not allow it
to heal.

I am my wounds
and scars
more than my joys
unmarred
as if I’m more alive
and greater
in my suffering
than in my easy going.

How profoundly perverted
and supremely addictive
that is!

* * *

When does it stop
- this wallowing in worries
and ecstatic agony?
When does it become
UN-interesting?
What does it take
to renounce that
and finally, finally
live in peace?

Has the game been rigged
from the very start
to stay stuck
in running in circles,
only dreaming
of That
from which we are apart?

There is a trick, I know.
An illusion existing
parallel with the Real Show,
but I keep bouncing
between the mirrors,
forgetting to look at
the One Who Looks.

Oh, to catch the Catcher
and witness
the play-writer,
director and projector,
and release
from within
all I ever wondered about
and wandered for…!

Let’s not hate
the little joy
that Lord has granted us.

In our memories
it is infinite
and its grandeur lasts.

I love to dance
but I don’t like
to be seen.
Because I want
to be treated
like a queen…
whom nobody dares
to restrict
or criticize
- she dances
when and how
she likes!

I don’t know if I’m a Christian,
but I like Jesus very much.
And I don’t know if I’m a Buddhist,
but I admire Buddha just as much.
I don’t know if I’m Jewish
but I love Cosmic Father with my whole heart.
And I don’t know if I’m a Muslim
but I sing praises to the One
Who deserves to be called “Allah”.

I don’t know if I’m a Hindu
but in the depths of my mind
I’d meditate with Shiva, dance for Krs’n'a,
emerge from and merge into Brahma
any and every time.

What’s the fuss?!
Am I not having fun?
Running around,
talking to my friends,
shopping till dropping,
dreaming and planning
and making my wishes
literally come true…

What more,
what more
do You need to do
so I’d accept
it’s all Your way to say:
“I do love you!”