Notes About The Poem
3 Jul 25
Lotus Spins
A sitting takes me to an attic of raw light
bestowing quiet glow for travelers
unyielding to a precise compass
of direction, a spaceless space nourished as it
were, losing the self to Bodhi-like clouds
and nomadic lotus spins.
I release this soul buried
in the kundalini to a congregation
of ambient tunes saying nothing,
taking flight unto a hymn of
unknown center , balanced
and steadily grounded--
no more weight or cities divided
united by forms of one core,
My malleable flesh dissolving into tiny
breaths; it floats with grace
ascending the next chi
as I go deep, deeper..high, higher
until this my body- mind- spirit marries
in a ceremony of quietude,
the airiness of journeying
through this unshaped season
fed by something
unbidden in my life so blessed:
I step outside my body, somewhere,
without a trace that lightbeams
expand my journey to higher dimension
searching for a mantra of stars....
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