You don't have to know or understand,
What awaits you at the Tavern of The Beloved.
Such expectation will only keep you from tasting…
The Wine that you Are.
Whatever imaginings you may have,
Of that which is poured there,
Are merely concepts, theory, and conjecture…
Half-empty glasses of lukewarm water.
Abandon expectation, and simply… Drink.
Abandon the mind, and simply… Taste.
Abandon concept, theory, and conjecture…
And simply… Experience.
Go to The Tavern without expectation.
Where would that be?
Where within and without never were,
And you Shine, before ever anything was.
Where before and after never existed,
And you Shine, outside of time.
Where outside and inside have never been,
And you Shine, spaceless.
But… can I exist without space?
Can I exist without time?
Can I exist without being an object?
Yes… as You Are before ever “you” were.
Go to the Tavern of The Beloved,
And drink the wine of your own Pure Being,
Until “you” Vanish in your glass…
Until the seed of Longing becomes vine,
The vine births grape,
The grape is crushed into wine,
The wine poured into the Cup of the Heart…
And She drinks you all down.
When you are gone, all will be Clear,
For in the Absolute Vanishing,
Of the one who desired happiness…
So much more than Happiness will Shine.