Musical Samadhi

As I ran the curtain lifted,  
Neptune rang from the deep, 
Rolling me forth, away from 
The vortex of nuclear burial 
Entrenched in the Earth, 
Like some tomb of Hades. 
Through water I was cast 
Out of the fire, into the air, 
Seeking spirit, tapping Earth, 
Growing wings, that I might see 
The edge beyond the grave. 
His notes poured through me, 
Subtle grace, dance of the tide, 
Pumping my heart in waves, 
Currents of energy eroding decay 
Left behind by unworthy kin. 
Now I spread them aloft, 
As the crest delivers my soul, 
Over the boundaries of distance, 
Divine solitude my patience gave, 
Lifting off the shore, as a bird, 
Calm for the calling, a final rhythm, 

Orchestrated by the endless.  

Vectors of Emotion

In the shallow ocean there lived a plant that yearned to escape.  It wanted to be lifted from the ground, assembled from the pieces of primitive geometry into something finer, with perceptions that would grant it access to higher dimensions.  The currents of Neptune beckoned; it was lifted out of the mud by a trident, buoyed up on wreaths of naiads, elevated to the ceiling of aquasheen that covered the canopy of the ocean.  Here was the netherwater, dusted with diamonds of algae, where angelic dolphins descended from the surface, transforming it into a maroon fish that swam among the Platonic solids of Precambrian life.

Hesychasm, Meditation in Christianity

In Eastern Orthodox Christianity, there is a practice called hesychasm, which is a meditation on the Jesus prayer.  Western religions aren't typically known for practicing meditation, but this is a rare exception.  It's controversial in Christian circles for supposedly being based on Pagan traditions, like those seen in Hinduism and Buddhism.  But meditation doesn't have to be exclusive to certain religions.  Anyone practicing a religion should be able to do it.  There's nothing heretical about meditation, which could be interpreted as a form of prayer anyway.  If the goal is mental focus, and communication with or imitation of God, they may as well be the same thing.  “Prayer is talking to God, meditation is listening", goes the adage.

Superconductor

 It's morning on the mountain by the sea.  He wakes up with a hankering for food, after dreaming about foot-long hot dogs and rabid candy vendors.  Ignoring the rumble, he takes a piss and lays back down, closing his eyes.  He imagines his body is made of niobium-titanium alloy, heavy enough to feel stillness, light enough to challenge gravity.  The coldness descends on him like an Arctic breeze, softly sinking him to the lowest state.  For ten minutes he doesn't move, letting his body settle, holding his mind on that single thought.  

When he hears the overture, it's as if every electron in his body seizes an instrument, revolving in tune with the music.  Becoming weightless, the steady hum of violins lifts him off the bed, letting him float freely in a sea of bliss.  He's reached them, the super-cool delta waves of Neptune, sea-beamed off the planetary map, vibrating to the rhythm of jhana, paramount junction of the mind.  The music takes him away, swallows him up, levitating particles the vastness of time synchronized, fractured pieces of his soul becoming whole.  Sirens call from the far side, deep in the mysterious gloom, coaxing him to dream on.  He can move them now, all the notes held in place by quanta, pulled from the grid in sequences of song.  

Coldness breaks, a sudden shift of focus.  Electricity converts the static elements into runaway melodies.  The crescendo comes in full orgasmic regalia, with the shore evaporating, the tide rolling away, the mountain alone, darkness disintegrating the stars, a nothingness beheld.  Mystical magician, winged messenger of the cosmic symphony, cast this music out from oblivion, have the others surrender to your sweet calling.  If only they could hear your song, those lost souls, if only they could become Aware.  

Somewhere in the between, an angel hears his devotion.  She pulls away the foliage, revealing glossy eyes as big as leaves.  Enraptured, she broadcasts the music through the rest of Mentalia, where every formation is made of thought.  It's a new song, for a new day, recorded on sheets of memory the particles had entangled.  What delights the living is presented to the dead.  They can hear everything we sing, we limited vessels of matter, we cantankerous critters of the densest realm.  Only a few of us can break through, and how grateful we are for that. 

The arrangement settled, he opens his eyes, ready for a new day.  And maybe a hot dog. 

Golden Buddha

Golden Buddha, vision of peace, 
Sitting on a lotus that vibrates 
From a valley of rainbows and rivers, 
The sun your mandala, the air your shield, 
You pull my thoughts like a magnet, 
Taking me back, to that eye in the storm, 
To the center of the universe,  
Where time evaporates, like my anxiety, 
Dissipated through a tsunami of focus. 
Each breath is an antidote for the thunder, 
Resounding from the drift, far away, 
Rippling across America those dark clouds, 
Brewing unrest and casting judgment. 
The ground shakes, I will not fall, 
The Earth moves, I will not go with it, 
Time marches forward, I will embrace peace, 
Treasure is abundant, I will resist temptation. 
Some are rich with gold, but yours is truth, 
Indeed, you have given me all the gold 
I will ever need, my prince of Nepal, 
For I am a rich man at heart, victorious, 
Embraced by your light at the nexus, 
Bathed in compassion and brilliance, 
Vibrating at the frequency of stillness. 

I Don't Remember

The moment came and went, 
A singularity of words, 
Black hole of shock, 
Obliteration of the shell. 
What you told me isn't true, 
It can't be, he loves me, 
He told me every day, and you, 
Love to hatred turned. 
Denial built a cave, 
Glittering buttons of hope 
Fading to darkness, 
The years growing cold, 
Memory lost in despair. 
Cause is irrelevant, 
It doesn't matter, 
I must go forward, 
Forget him, forget everything, 
It's the only way. 
I don't remember, I don't care, 
Let it burn, let this moment burn.