Sri Yantra

Firstly, there is a step out of line,
followed by a different sort of walk: free
yet together as One: no difference
seems to be the thing apart...
yielding as water,
as a tree before the wind,
as the soul that takes a body:
wind your way through the streets
without losing your composure, like sand
beneath the crashing wave: receive it all
while always letting go: how else
is this world to be saved?

Next, run your fingers through your lover's hair:
your life itself is the comb and brush...

The apple in the tree
is the fruit of a brand new world: let it
drop of its own accord
into your outstretched hand: plant it
with your life renewed and vivified
in the balance of breath between tremulous
forces: creation and destruction is not a game
left to the whims of privilege and power: it is
the ground of all that is sacred and holy:
no difference, remember? Rumi said
"There are a hundred ways to kiss the ground".
Maybe he was thinking ahead to you?

Now, run your fingers through your child's hair:
your life itself is the comb and brush...