Touched, Moved, and Illumined

So much for “enlightenment”,
Or “awakening”,
Or any state of Being, whatever one may call it,
In which one is untouched and unmoved,
By the vicissitudes of life.

Of such things, I know nothing,
For I am touched now, more deeply than ever,
With an intensity often unbearable,
By all that appears, then vanishes,
In this Dream of Existence.

I cry, when the lion takes down the antelope,
I rage, when I see cruelty and brutality,
I crumble, at the suffering of others,
I shudder, at the Immensity of this Great Mystery,
I pray… though I wonder at the existence of a Listener.

It's only this…
That my Heart is ever Radiant with a Presence,
Fullness, Completion, and Bliss,
That words can never adequately convey,
And which I call… The Beloved.

She is ever here,
In the Locus of the Heart,
No matter the ever-changing weather,
Of circumstance and conditionality,
In the sky of peripheral experience.

Ever Present, ever Shining,
In the midst of Joy and Sorrow,
Laughter and tears,
Pleasure and pain,
Somehow… Impossibly…

In this wounded, broken, Surrendered Heart.

Thus Illumined, Full, and Complete,
This Besotted Fool,
Has no yearning for “more”,
And carries on, a Simple man,
Laughing and crying.