teachings of a modern spiritual adept
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Poetry

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

yogi don’t turn your longing into sound-bite answers

some things long to be said.  but they do not wish
for the saying to be their unconcealment.

 some poems hunger to be written but their words resist,
desiring also the sensuous obscurity of 
                                                                     unspeaking.

 

in moments of hungry daring they long to fill the 
world soul with

                turquoise brilliant premonitions 
               the plentiful mercies of spring flowers,
               the tiny house of dreams left by twilight thunder.

but there is enjoyment in the veiling play of light and shadow where whispered words never shout, proclaim, boast but
                                           s
                                        i 
                                          g
                                              h

 

                                                a   
                                            c 
                                         r 
                                          o 
                                               s 

                                          s    

lip to ear like a kiss,
a rumor of things

to come.

  

happily, here, in the bedroom of my heart you and i have fallen back across the bed of appearance and there is no one to eavesdrop

                                on our murmuring
                                love.  

and when life’s blood spills out across the snow
what words will you speak?

what story will you tell to the child
whose mother hits her?

what whispered lullaby will make right the red? and
also assuage the wolf’s hunger.

oh yogi don’t turn your longing into sound-bite answers,
cutesy facebook cat pictures, the carefully crafted indifference
of privilege……

even in this culture of distractions 
and wealth ....the great question 
of life and death 

is finality. - t.k.

t.k., tsogyelgar, traktung khepa

Priya Tsomo