Instrument

This body of mine
This instrument of perception
Of navigation
Of expansion
Of discovery
Of possibility
This radiator
This receiver
Of Blessings
Of Love
Of Connectedness
Of Profound Presence
Of Awakening


It’s still flesh and bones


It aches
It tires
It erodes
It falls into dis ease
It dies
It dissolves into nothingness
Like it never was
Like all life
Like all existence

 

I know I am not the instrument


I know I am not the perception


I know that while I radiate and receive
I know I am not the radiation or reception
I know enough not to even try to define I
I know all that
And rest in wonder

But without this instrument


How can I possibly


Bless
Love
Connect


Wake up

Just be

 

Without it
How I can I possibly be
How I can I possibly be there for all
How can we possibly be
How can we possibly be there for each other

 

Grateful for it


As it dances with endless cycles
Of flourishing and withering
Of waking and slumber
Of vigor and dullness
Of health and malady

 

This body of mine

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Hunter’s Communion

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