Behind the snowy prospects of your eyes,
ranging like mountains with onyx studs at their peaks,
lies only everything, space and light
mingling and stretching, blowing, glowing away
to an event horizon where I hover and vanish.
There lies my true home, my yearning for it beyond measure.
Inside the temple of my heart,
circling the altar of pulsing five-colored lights
where the innate guru holds court, enthroned,
the breeze of your passage sings paeans green and fresh,
bearing hints of the savor of the ocean
flowing between earth and sky,
your two legs, your natural domain.
In the central, unchanging core of my being,
the energy of creation is unleashed
by the power of your smile
and the curve of your invisible embrace,
calling awake the sleeping dragon,
stirring his fiery, pure breath to mingle with yours.
Together we dance in a newborn field,
the magical creation of our mingled love
which exists in no separate place,
but everywhere we see each other.
There grows an endless orchard of peaches,
limbs reaching skyward and letting fall their fruction
on your breath’s caress, to feed and nurture our world.
May the merit and virtue of this inadequate praise to the karma dakini,
through the power of it being truly spoken,
draw all beings who are encased in the hardened mud
of their own solidified concepts of self and other,
into the boundless expanse of primal, flowing love and awareness.
Art by Jane Adams. England.