The Desert

The desert offers you nothing

and demands everything in return.

The delusory appearance of lifelessness

empties out the senses 

in their longing for affirmation of purpose.

“What good am I if there is nothing to see?”

“What will I do if there is nothing to feel?”

“What will i judge if there is nothing to smell?”

“Where will I find joy if there is nothing to taste?”

“What will I think if there is nothing to hear?”

And then a deathening quiet.

stirless

soundless

aridification

conceptless.

Raven floats over gurgling

or were they laughing?

Wind rumbles like a distant train

before forcing ancient dust 

down your agape mouth.

the sky drones 

and the stones sing

the sages illuminate

and the cacti practice.

Suddenly the empty nothingness that the desert first offered

is luminous with the infinite

unborn

non-regressing

thinkless

suchness.

Just as you reach out to grasp the offering

The desert wind roars ungently through

the ebony, moonless, star-painted, shadow laden night,

scattering stability and haveness

wringing out the mind of any possession

and dashing new realizations on the sandy wash.

Stumbling into the orange and tourquoise dawn 

the first despondent thought is 

“I have lost everything.”

Raven floats over gurgling

or were they laughing? 
Wind rumbles…


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