In the Night
Dreaming of the highest pinnacle of a telescope
Tending it with my new boss
Precisely tuning it for our clients
So delicate to strike it just right
And even earlier in the night
A dream of being hunted by something from within
Some distortion incessantly arising to pursue
An infiltration of hatred and fear
Then the masses honed down to the solitary figure or group here and there
Descending, each accompanied by a pure white creature
Then waking, there on that needle-like pinnacle
Dialing in the endlessly dazzling array of space
Boundlessness
A wide sweep of humbleness
To appreciate I am that
Such a combination: the silent glory across the luminous heavens
And we tiny humans trying to see, aching to see
Trying to satisfy the demanding client within us all
As the tiny figure falls from the peak
The slide, the swoop, a slight breeze
Disappearing over the edge
The gasp
Liquid essence flows through me
Liquefying any remaining ego
The smooth shock of it like swallowing cognac
A burning soothing, a guide dancing
Asking
What do I need to see here?
As the flowing bliss permeates and stretches consciousness
What is this?
And the answer so strong in a porous heart
A shimmering wash of silver and gold flashing
The slam of delicately acute understanding
Knowing we are both
A human fallen from the peak
And the almost unbearable exquisitude of the entirety of all that is, both
Especially and always amid the tears
A Wash of Goodness—July 2017