The Mirror

Beloved Christ, Bodhisattva, Tao, 
open thy lane such that I see it,
and my heart such that I dare to walk it.

Buddha, whisper your name
to the meditating urban monks
so they might guide me
to my very own sanctuary of peace
somewhere between my shoes
and my new khaki baseball cap;

may Jesus' love be in every
sip of water,
maybe I always taste
his miracle there.
May Jesus' love fill me
with awe as my eyes consume
the Truth of one crumb of bread,

may I understand and desire this sustenance,
this wealth, this species of riches
above all else

and may these mundane miracles
render each and every pound of my flesh
worth the same in said crumbs

may the rivers of the world be
a vein to every temple, wrist,
pulsating part, Gaia.

May Mohammed show me
the one and only light
whose beauty is not such at noon
as it is at dawn
nor dusk nor any two hours,
and yet remains of a Single Light.

Whether His Loveliness is veiled
by the angle of the day's hour
or nude as a dazzling gem
in the crown of any day I perceive as being holy,
even if I should lewdly see
a blonde on the blue beaches of Heaven,

or the fury which not even Hell hath
racing with a cloud of hair behind her,
electrified and coming to extinguish
the molten core of the Earth

by the touch of Zeus or
the dance of a shaman
cupping his hands above a thirsty forest,

the arch of Light is raised,
bowed spectrum in light
which makes all beauty sweet
and equally so,
all shades of man,
mind, heart and soul
equally born of and triumphant in
the tempest.

The Rainbow at the end of the storm,
everything but black and white.

There is no diminishing the Light of Life
lest ye turn toward the darkness
unprepared to admire it
or without the torch of Love within you
or the intent of Lords and prophets
to reach where no Light is perceived
and salvage souls there scattered
and lost in the Infinite
which has been too easily confused for Nothingness.

Let me find you, brother,
and you find me --
I lost in your light,
perceiving my confusion
calling it your darkness
and you lost in my light
mis-taking in the same manner
but convinced of the truth of what you spy
for we both possess darkness,
it is true.

No coincidence we find each other in the Darkness, then.
You find the worst of me, and I the worst of you.

Ay, if you could see me praise, celebrate and adore by day
and brave and battle the demons and wolves by night --
tame them into allies, even! -- you would be proud to call me "brother".

I, as you, am a victorious form of Life
and I, too, would and have hated, hunted, and slain --
the lion, the wolf, the wild beast all around and within
are today the dinosaurs of my essence,
they are my roots.  A past I study and learn
not to repeat.

But I have seen the tiger
lick my obnoxious children;
the lion leap to greet
kind and trained explorers;
the monkey, too, has
paused to think before he acts
and the smiling orangutang has signed,
"I love you", from within his cage.

None of which are tricks
or deceptions,
though currently exceptions --
these proofs have me thinking

might we sworn enemies
anull our hate and be exemplary, too?

I offer this:

If you would watch me closely
as I served you,
I would serve you.

And when my back shines
like a mirror under the sun
from minutes, hours, years of
tending to your animals, cultivating your gardens
and doing as your will bids,
as I toil there whistling a tune of liberty
focused on my task
and the beauty and reason in it,
that will be the moment you can shoot or slice me dead
cold, heavy, falling through eternity

should you still desire to do so.