so um ..

so hmmmmmm..
rainbow..
going 'round out that afternoon
to look through the raindrops
to see if i can see it..
nope..
so hum..

how many times do i say
so ummm?
i have started a sadhana
~ each time i hear
(and catch)
myself ~
i chant so hum (so ham)
which translates ..
i am that..
i am that that is
i am pristine awareness 
ultimate reality
so hum..so what...

it is a dandy way of keeping
myself awake to whatever what is is is what i want*
and when i hear another so humming it..
i do the same..
imagine how many times i wake myself up?
ten thouand times or more
reset
clear light mind..
for one bright moment
* galway kinnell - prayer

so ummm..
how would we live without
those wee brown birds whose songs last
a lifetime in the deep woods..?
with such a trill and thrill?
the praises, the prayers..?
so ham
i am that!

the last breath - the first night

the first night  - billy collins

              the worst thing about death must be
              the first night.
                                     ~ jose ramón jiménez

before i opened you, jiménez,
it never occurred to me that day and night
would continue to circle each other in the ring of death,

but now you have me wondering
if there will also be a sun and a moon
and will the dead gather to watch them rise and set

then repair, each soul alone,
to some ghastly equivalent of a bed.
or will the first night be the only night,

a darkness for which we have no other name?
how feeble our vocabulary in the face of death,
how impossible to write it down.

this is where language will stop,
the horse we have ridden all our lives
rearing up at the edge of a dizzying cliff.

the word that was in the beginning
and the word that was made flesh—
those and all the other words will cease.

even now, reading you on this trellised porch,
how can i describe a sun that will shine after death?
but it is enough to frighten me

into paying more attention to the world's day-moon,
to sunlight bright on water
or fragmented in a grove of trees,

and to look more closely here at these small leaves,
these sentinel thorns,
whose employment it is to guard the rose.

PAY MORE ATTENTION!

look to the exhale..
listen! and remember ~
this will be our last breath

embody the echo of each last breath
every time we expire..
at every breath's end,
carve out a wee bit more prana
from the cave of the belly..
from the o so deep cavern that
holds remnants of memory,
the silt of distress,
that worrisome
fabricated
unknown
future..

when we reach the bottom of the barrel..
exhale again.. any amount..
be all out (rather than all in)
a death that is not the end of life
                          ~ bks iyengar

when we are empty, we are contented simplicity
we are not grasping at our i-shape..
desiring this and that..
preening ourselves for a shining reputation
hoarding money and objects
(or toilet paper, for that matter!)
envying one another's traits or experiences ..
we arrive in the center of center..

when you make yourself zero, 
your power becomes invincible ~
                     ~ m.k. gandhi-ji


we are now, all of us, in a great interval
perhaps the great interval
the bardo betwixt and between
our last breath and first night
i imagine we have always been~
it's the moment
we're in it!

be a light..
be a brightness..
impeccable with ourselves
and each another..
we are shining for one another..
we are burning dazzling shimmering
a great benefit for the benefit of all..
breathing in,
breathing out..
and out
and empty!