Name and Form

Don't call Me “The Beloved”, She said.
Don't call Me “The Beautiful One”.
Don't call Me anything at all.

Don't imagine Me Transcendent, She said.
Don't imagine Me as Immanent.
Don't imagine Me at all.

Let your Attention Fall, Heartlong,
Into the depths of your Deepest Interiority.
Vanish, into the Essence of what you Are.

Don't call it Soul, She said.
Don't call it Atman.
Don't call it anything at all.

Don't imagine it as spirit, She said.
Don't imagine a formless “something”.
Don't imagine it at all.

Vanish there, along with all of creation,
And, no longer existing as one existent,
Exist in the Ecstasy of Nonexistence.

When you return from that Heaven,
Give Me a name, if you must.
Imagine Me, if you must.

But do not insist that others name Me so,
Or imagine Me in the way you have,
For neither of these are what I Am.

Remember, above all else remembered,
I am no word spoken or image imagined,
But Am, above all else, Love.

Forgetting this…
You have remembered nothing,
And have forgotten everything.