Surrounding myself with the white protective light of love,
I sit quietly counting out-breaths to nine, while
mind coasting between fight or flee into super conscious me.
Still profoundly alert, awaiting the ancient recorded dreams,
I hear monsters howl at the edge of light.
Dream voices speak to me according to my divinity;
strong voices declaring that God does not say
the same things on Sinai that He does on Galilee.
Could it be that the voice of the dinosaur
was not as lovely in the ear of God
as that of present man ? How does the iron
in our blood remember the deaths of exploded stars?
Relaxed, awake, imperially alone, breathing to the goddess' count,
my heart beating in the rhythm of the universe,
somehow knows yesterday's immutable atom is today's fleeting quantum.
I see the earth bear witness under Buddha's finger.
I hear the fir trees, field mice, and frogs
singing psalms of praise for their gifts of life.
Drum beats from ancient dream time pound me with
the vision of two hairy beasts whose hands hold
hydrogen bombs, separated only by the earth's cooling oceans.
Knowing it unwise, I ask, in a final plea.
" Share the grace. Show me meaning or I'll drown."
The angel whispers, " Prayer is talking to the mystery.
Meditation is the listening. Count again your magic nines."
Surrounding myself with the white protective light of love,