Festival Snapshots
Morning, serving breakfast,
still fasting, bright and clear,
the lady vectored to the heart of it.
Laser surgery with loving eyes;
this is not it. The ideas are not it.
They just indicate it, as Bhagwan says,
like fingers pointing at the moon;
they are not it.
This is a stage provided
for us to work ourselves out on.
I can’t remember all her words
but they ran like silver through me
and that I can’t remember them doesn’t matter.
Truth has its own memory.
What I remember most is the feeling
as she spoke, and her eyes …
with openness and love,
like the glow of whiskey going down,
or Venus rising.
gallagher
03 july 83 – Rajneeshpuram
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
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