Life’s accumulations
O Beloved, the
intellectuals among us
probe Your every word,
seeking hidden compartments.
I wish them well.
For many years I tried
soaking up the Ocean through
the sponge of my brain.
Now I’m afraid Your wine
has seriously impaired
my cerebral abilities.
Spouting ingenious
theories of God and man,
Your wave rolled in and
left me gasping for air.
What’s a few consonants
strung with vowels,
when the Ocean floods the
lowlands and carries Your life’s
accumulations out to sea?
Where is sure footing in
fathomless water?
Which directions matter
when all I see is Ocean?
What is there to do now
but float face up and wonder
what You have in mind for
the rest of my life?
O child of God, words of
the Avatar are like bread to his lovers
but it’s the Master’s
wine that soaks you head to foot.
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