ON STRIVING FOR ENLIGHTENMENT

Walking this way, towards that point, ahead

of us in time and space,

wanting to be “there” – a state of grace,

Never good enough, never good,

not yet there, quite, nearly,

Oops, it’s gone again.

Can you hear the wind whisper?

as it touches lips and blows through cells?

If you were Buddha now,

the wind would grieve

the water dull, unflavoured

and the earth would miss

the clumsiness

of your weathered shoes.

If you were “there” now,

All holy and undeterred,

you would not be here –

spectacular and human,

glittering with the bruises

and open wounds

of all that is alive.

How could we lose

this imperfect mother,

this busy mind,

this warm and sacred

moment of all you were,

all you ever will be

and all you are?

Completely pure,

in a grey light of dawn,

a pristine moment

kissing time and still,

it caresses space,

gloriously imperfect

an explosion of beauty,

always here, now,

unceasingly becoming

an endless spiral of love.