The merest shadow

The merest shadow

O Beloved, before I met You I was a devout believer,

clinging to a hundred stolen truths.

Now I find I am slowly losing my religion.

When it’s gone, when my pockets are empty,

I will float above this world like an angel.

Jesus drove the moneychangers from the temple,

those who judged and measured,

bargained and quibbled,

those who accumulated and divided.

O Beloved, when You get through with me there’ll be

          nothing left –

not the vaguest hint of a semblance of the merest shadow

          of a dream.

I removed my sandals at Your threshold,

but my bare feet stained the surface

          of Your pure stone floor.

This unholy container of flesh and blood, shit and piss,

          mucous, phlegm, sweat and tears

tainted the atmosphere of Your immaculate shrine.

O Beloved, what is at the heart of me

          that You tolerate such intolerable insults

and move, ever closer, ever more intimate and involved?

O child of God, if you are made of clay, how will you

          ever be scrubbed clean?

Know that your Beloved is drawn to the inviolate Source

          of who you really are.

                           (from The Garden of Surrender)

Yesterday's tea

Yesterday’s tea                                                                     

Joshu said, “First empty your cup.”

But You, ready or not, started pouring –

spattering everywhere the stagnant residue,

the spent rends of yesterday’s tea.

Roughly scoured, deeply discolored,

my cup (one tomorrow)

will be crushed under the Master’s heel.

Ryokan offered the moon,

but content was the pitiable thief

to wrap himself in the old man’s robe.

Don’t confuse the moon with the finger,

Ryokan would say.

You say the moon and finger are One.

How confusing!

What You have poured into my cup –

I have drunk to the pungent dregs,

whether medicinal tea ... or mulled wine,

my beard and chest soaked 

and darkly stained, waving frantically,
pounding the table and clamoring for more!

O Master, You know how to shake up the ol' teahouse!

You’ve invited the moon inside to drink from Your cozied pot.

O child of God, Truth is One.

Contradictions are merely apparent.