Please Meditate This Morning

It is very important
to honor your breath.
Please meditate this morning
so that the earth
may drink from your heart.
Sometimes your breath
is a destroying wind.
Let it topple the spires of reason
and ruin the towers of memory.
Is there no garden
at the center of the storm
where not a petal moves?
Sometimes your breath is
an incorporeal whisper,
a drip of sap on a silken root tip
dropping into groundlessness.
Sometimes it neither
comes nor goes,
but trembles in silence
like a star.
At dawn, your breath is
the cradle song of ruffled
feathers warming the egg.
In the evening, your
inhalation and exhalation
are wings that carry the most
beautiful Name of God
back to the secret nest
where you are born again
and again from a golden light
in the core of your flesh.


Jesus didn't say, 'I am not this body.' Jesus held up a morsel of bread and declared, 'This is my body.' (Luke 22:19) We are not angels. We have a deeper mission. We are called to incarnation. An infinitesimal photon dancing on a single electron of one atom in one cell of my body encircles the total radiance of God.



Who are you when you are silent? Not just in your speech, but in your mind, your very heart's core?

Everything but silence changes. Before creation, this silence. At the end of creation, this silence. But silence is uncreated.

We can't really say that there "was" or "will be" silence. We can only say that, before and after the cosmos, is the omnipresent silence of now.

From this quiet emptiness, innumerable worlds overflow. The universe arises and dissolves like a breath.

It is 3 A.M. There is inhalation and exhalation. And just before the next breath, an infinitesimal bindhu.

This instantaneous dimensionless point seems like nothing at all. Yet it is the portal to groundless, eternal, all-pervading bliss. It is the very silence that was here before God said, "Let there be light."

Who are you when you are silent?