Shiva Stirs in Sohbet

[Guest guest]

This sobhet really is a sobhet

perpetually continuing itself

in a conversation that never ends

and never spends itself out in boredom

or any form of mundane muttering.

Casually calling it anything less

than sitting at the feet of the great ones

receiving prosad in prose and poem is folly,

for we talk the talk

in conversing with the Beautiful Beloved One

and we pretend to pray in play that the day will never come

when it ends and leaves us speechless.

We do not pray this in any seriousness

but it sounds as if some might like if we did.

i do not know the quirks of all the rest,

but b and i die in It

each and every single night when we remain

in constant communion with one another

and the Beloved Whom gives us both such Muchness,

or I should say He gives us much Suchness

of such a Touch upon the Heart and power-points

a wine-press against our Kutastha Chaitanya.

Nag Champa is pasted perfectly and we are plunged inside

the mind's merlot-ruby eye

centered in and surrendered of all

by the finger of Shiva Himself.

It's as if to say, "Hey! I Like how You Play!"

Now, again now and the same and never-ending,

Shiva keeps up the dialogue with HimSelf

and we are not Alone.

Although there is no other, no,

even though the much-wanted weather reports

report a revival meeting of really large

group-sightings, Heart-Brightings

and more of the One keeping clearly unassailable,

clowning around in the classic conundrum style -

we are alive and well as we are lifted from the well,

and well, as the Rumsters rumored about us and said,

"be as buckets pulled up the dark way

of a well and lifted out into Light."

I think this might be arranged as we are often literally

lifted up in the Mouth of God as we seek to say the Unsayable.

Shiva slightly quivers His Ashen-Lips

whenever we come along and sing songs

that only Shiva can finalize

as we sing our own funeral dirge,

saying in a sing-song way that the death-play

is nothing more than Kisses

upon the Heart of the one who Blisses out

Blessedly so goes out at breakfast, lunch,

and yes, lifts up and hollers out silently

as a corpse will do, dittying delightedly

at the sound of the din of kin dancing about like Light

as the Dharma-dinner bell announces

friendly-like, real kindly moved with Kali

that fana is about to annihilate

each and every kind of concept of this

that we cannot say in any way

that rings of truth or what it is, oh no!

Of what IT really Is. Now.

i never cared if anything that we repeated and rebirthed

was greeted with kindness or even happenstance happiness.

Happiness has Its own way of making hay

while the Shivaic Sun shines on everything so unparticularly.

Shall i say that this sobhet is special?

Nay, and hey, i cannot claim such a thing

for to do so would maybe take it away and burn up

any pathway being created towards the pathless path.

"He Who hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail!"

So sobhet, side by side with Shiva and Kali

gliding inside us sort of saying sutras and mantras,

like i saying to b "the epic of Gilgamesh"

or singing about sweet sweating inside God's Lodge

where we meet each night

to simmer-shimmer in Light and Laughter

clasping holy human hands which divine hands

make mudras and move magically as us.

We are simply completing the rounds of Shiva drinking Hearts

Some One shouts out – Last call for divinity in drinks Dearies!

We drink up and are drunk on Self-Luminous, Radiant Ripple.

i shall say it again more clearly my friends -

We drink and are drunk in sobhet rippling perpetually

off the tongue of Shiva sitting inside some anonymous bar

called OneHeart waiting for every Lover to stop in and say -

"Hey Bartender, make mine a double!

i feel real lucky tonight,

and see that Beauty Breathing Breathless Beauty over there?

She belongs to the Beloved, and Baby, Baby,

I AM That Kali devotee drowning in Blissful Grace

coming into the House of Shiva and slaking His thirst…"

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie