Crying These Tears

Crying these tears, deeper than a river,
Beyond the grave, the statue or the giver,
Leagues below any undercurrent present,
The deepest flows, deeply resonant.

Asking for the sun, I see only stars,
Looking for the light and seeing only mars,
Pretending the world was cast in my image,
Unfolding the stars as God’s own appendage.

The truth seeker’s seeking while truth’s always there,
Omnipresent, intelligent and aware.

The rebirth happens to us all at once,
The rebirth is given like God’s paper shunt,
A temporary fixture, an eternal moment in time,
When the heaven and earth become one sublime.

Breath of life the puja flame,
Integrated and illuminated with no blame,
It’s like this tape’s rewinding and starting again,
Recording over mistakes and into the grain.

As I follow the thread of this sweet melody,
I recall all the elements I’ve been and will be,
This repetition a rewriting of history,
Rebirthing a world soul, unchained but not free.

Free within the bounds of this dimension,
Free but bound by intention.

The soft surface, rough edges and sharp points,
Are all here as reminders to fall apart – not disjoint,
Because there is a way to fall into this,
A way to stay conscious.

So I search for the nooks, the crannies and cracks,
Find the empty space and just follow that,
Searching for my place the blind lead the blind,
What I’ve found is sensation and it transcends time.

What else is there left to search for?
With all options are exhausted it’s the only door,
When death welcomes me with the razors edge,
I don’t run away, turning the razor to hedge,
Protect myself from this sharp raw truth,
This protection impermanent as is youth.

As age descends like a hawk to prey,
This rattlesnake youth is carried away.
By venomous fangs or beak and talon,
This fights over before it’s begun.

Struggle he may, struggle he might,
Youth concedes to that glorious white light.
In death there is no choice,
A sweet melody sung without voice.

-Archie Underwood 10/05