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YANTRA

It is not is
It is not was
And neither
Is it will be.
A thrum throughout.
Wrapped, webbed, unstruck.
Root note casting out
Harmonic creation
That we are.
One chord excluding nothing;
One name with all sounds;
All faces, all gestures,
All wonderings,
All worlds.
Whatever sound you choose,
That is it.
Whatever name,
That is it.
Whatever explanation,
That is it.
Whatever denial,
That is it.
Her tongue
Wrapped around your tongue.
Her eyes
Through your mirrored eyes.
Of no form,
With no preference,
An orifice of taste,
A groan of delight.

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Mirror words
(As are
All words)
Reflection
Of movement
Within silence.
Feeling shapes
Mimicked
By mouth
Borne
Outward
On breath.
Soft
(or hard)
Explosion
Into
Meaning
Within
Other minds.
Spontaneous
Blossoming
Of pictures,
Coalescing
Inner light.
Their fruit:
Other words,
Other pictures.

Like light
(perhaps)
From the outside
All appears
Bright and colour,
Whilst residing
Inside is
Darkness
And silence.
Where edge
Meets edge
(the silvered
Surface)
All appears
Perfect, clear-
Though it is a
Reversed world
One that can never
Be seen
Except
In reflection.

When is a
Mirror
Empty?
When it is not
A mirror.

Silent gesture
Shrug
Distant thunder.
In the forest
Falling tree
Mimics
The way
Of Heaven.

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Basho by the Pond.

Pausing,
He turns to listen:

The sound
Of one hand

Clapping.

—-

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