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4/9/26
I am ocean mind
sprouting from the cerebrum
calm lazy naptime.
Ommmmmmmmm
I’m grapefruit slices
in the warm sun, India
by master’s cottage.
He is just inside
writing, pausing, head bowed in
reverence, writing.
I see him through the
window, and a little me
in the reflection
If I squint my eyes.
I bow to the windowpane
& it starts to grow
larger and larger
right in front of little me
It’s a house swelling
heaving with ideas
pulsing & lo! it shatters!
out floods his wisdom
& it pours over
land & mixes with the sea
everything rising
& gushing, spinning.
Remember - have you been caught
in a crashing wave?
in shallow waters?
by the edge of the ocean
it grabs you tumbling
& bubbling, your limbs
flip inside out & under
& gasping for breath.
Once upon a time
this happened to little me.
The wave tore my shorts
down to my ankles
& I woke dazed on the sand
naked & breathless
& alive and there
I noted the taste of the
cosmos in my throat.
At the hermitage-
it poured itself into me.
Not the wave of life
with its chaotic
heaving, forceful at the brink
disoriented
nakedness, not that.
It poured into me like the
ecstasy of sleep
in the summer shade
of an oak tree, head on moss
pillow & complete
annihilation
of identification
with the fragile skin
birds chirping peaceful
& nowhere to go but here
in summer-dream-land
peace, exposition
denouement, curtains closing
all of it in form.
Remember - glancing
up in the movie theater
watching spherical
beams of light that make
all the pictures, trying to
trace beginningless?
you can’t crane your neck
so look back at the movie
and THERE! it gets you.
The house is only
a house again, the guru
is only writing
pausing and bowing
his head in deep reverence
tapping his pencil
and little myself
just a reflection, revealed
in the windowpane.