At the Altar of Emptiness

LIttle Blue BugCaught in quivering flames
of fear
too vulnerable to see or hear
deafened by blame and loss –
I listen again to the Quiet.

I stand empty
at the altar of emptiness
bowing to goodness
to wisdom
my singular refuge –
the heart’s great compassion
come what may.

Tears and trials
no pain too cruel
to forgo kindness.

Open and awake
beneath the canopy
of Truth
where the wild fruit softens
ripens and falls –
it has no choice.

I learn to abseil
the impossible heights
on a nameless track
trusting the voice
of the ancients –
weaned on the joy
of letting go.

Through our hurdles
and struggles
of body and mind
we arrive –
yes, we arrive
at the cusp of death
in one tender exhalation.

Better set our moral compass
to the truth of this moment
stay present
facetime with now
discard the burden
in its entirety.

There we will touch
impermanence
the karmic law
and taste this Noble Truth
of pain
and the ending of pain
leading us beyond
self-obsession.

Do imposters beg our attention?
evict them all
one in-breath, one out
two, three
impermanent
imperfect
impersonal.

O to see at last
stay the course
at the coordinates of faith
gratitude
clarity
and peace –
the heart will unfold kindly.

Soaked in forgiveness
bravely blessing what is sweet
or sorrowful –
every moment
passing away.

© Ayyā Medhānandī 2019

photo by Brenna Artinger @ Sati Sārāņīya Hermitage