Laxman Jhula in the morning mist
Ode to Clarity
What is it to know no clarity?
Perhaps this is our long-sought
opening into the sweet unknown,
into a deliverance from the old way
of living in a world made by the mind.
The clarity of thoughts is often a prison.
Tidy ideas are thick shackles on the soul.
Yet the clarity of the heart opens all locks,
offers the awareness of undivided nature.
The clarity that works the best for me,
which arrives usually unannounced,
which ruthlessly shatters my plans,
is a lucidity of the integrated being.
For me this is the flash of lightning,
the bolt that rips through the body,
the heartmind, the soul, and all cells
of the One looking to encounter itself.
For you such certainty grows with time,
flitting and flipping until the winds cease,
then blooming like wildflowers, I see now.
It is not mine to say how Goddess operates
in and through your wondrous embodiment.
How Love illuminates your path is sacrosanct.
Mine is to appreciate how Life clarifies the way
in right and optimal ways, ever in perfect timing,
through every unimaginable miracle of the Divine,
for you and me, and our humanly heavenly designs.
This poem is part of a collection titled The Longing of God for God.
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