Zen mode
thirty three strings of our vertebrae
reverberate with music of the spheres
a harp upon which Divine Mother plays
nectar flows upward through the medulla
settling finally in head ovoid at the Bindu point
what may we write of such things, worthy hermit
for what it is, is a knowing by so becoming the flame
Copyright © Unseeking Seeker | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment