teachings of a modern spiritual adept
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Poetry

where mystery, emptiness, and form are expressed with twilight language in verse

How do you become ready?’

Every moment whispers an invitation and, deeper, a question ‘How do you become ready?’

There is a book already written inside you. Every page and word completed before your parents ever met. Some of its pages hold sunlight others tell stories of heartbreak. On one page an unwed mother holds a baby in her arms ..… Christ right there behind your breastbone.  On another page General Patton leads the Tennessee Maneuvers.

Now comes you and there are decisions to be made.  Those pages are not made of things and times but of lines and light dreamed into moments. You are the dreamer. What you call birth is a falling asleep. What you call death is a waking up into sunlight.; what passes for understandings in this realm are the mad musings of a Heyoka.

You fall asleep in this dream called waking and dream you are in Istanbul but your body has never left Pittsburgh. In Istanbul you run a produce store. You haggle over the price of oranges, you fret over this months bills. Now worry has a hold of you and you can’t sleep. But there you are in bed sleeping.

Something disturbs your sleep. Coming awake in a groggy state you feel peevish that you were awakened … but look! Where are your worries now? Something disturbed your sleep; thank it!  Now look at this waking-sleep body.  What you call flesh is the tallow of a molded candle. What you call spirit is a wick waiting to be set afire.

In your dream someone whispers: “What is the name of that secret that could hold the sky?” the wind replies “Innocence.”

A deeper question is ‘How do you become ready?’ - t.k.

t.k., tsogyelgar, traktung khepa

Priya Tsomo