Pen o’ the Woods : The Forest of the Heart

In the

middle

of everywhere,

I am nothing.

But,

in the

Vast Expanse,

I am everything–

a singular,

all-encompassing

glint of shimmering

suchness flashing

on the eddying flow,

like an airborne

hit of cosmic acid

containing all the eyes,

caught by the wind,

floating tiptoes

on the

glistening nipples

of a twinkling

time-stream dakini,

living in the dancing

ripples of Rubenesque

curves in an ancient

oxbow trace,

where everflows

the divine dusty

karmic river

of

eternal

existential

oneness