.   .   .   .   as we prepare 2 mourn its passing

We have made great strides, you and eye
And have outgrown the glamour and glitz
Of ev’ry garish bauble this mud province has to offer

So now,

Standing at the dawn of Surya’s luminous trove,
What we desperately need is a poverty of the Soul

Brothers! Trample your goatskins!
Cup your hands and drink mightily   .   .   .
Mightily from the mouths of Saints

Sisters! Break your combs beneath the red heels of your boots!
Break them damnit!
Break them en twain
And run your fingers, wet w/ henna, thru the length of your manes

What we need 2 do   .   .   .   is put a spit-polish 2 the Grail,
Read the Vedas, orbit the Ka’ba,
And routinely pierce the Veil

We need Acts of Love;
Acts that challenge us, perplex us,
Shatter us, and re-connect us

2 the Cosmic Heart,
A heart generous and vast

2 the Truth of our being;
Its very center

At long, long last

 
© LogosVox 2012