SamadhiMuse

   An early winter evening with
      motorcycle wind and headlights moving
   through the lights 
      of houses full of warmth.

   I open the door 
      into a darkened room
  and the sound 
     of running feet.

   She is there 
      with the smell of incense
   lighting candles 
      behind the bedroom door.

   She has George Winston's 
   music playing 
   And I feel deeply blessed  
      to see her love, 
   her playfulness, 
      her passion.

   My hands are cold from the dark ride
      and she enfolds me,
   and kisses my neck like the heat 
      from a winter wood stove.

   Such feelings of intimacy fill me.
      And in this moment 
 I am both spirit and flesh; 
   Transient, and yet imperishable.

   This washes over me ... 
   I.   am.   loved.

   So many years, 
      and so many women,
   I've passed through 
      just to gain this vision.

   Just to be able 
      to see how deep 
   her goodness, sincerity,
      and caring, are.

   I tell her this 
      and she laughs at me.

   She says it just takes some of us longer 
      than others to see the obvious.
 
 I can see that these soft experiences 
   of intimate reality are
   so much of what is real 
         and worthy in us.
   And that all the rest 
    are only the moments 
            between these moments.

   But....      but...

   These human moments of ours
      can also pass in darkness. 
   
 In jungles . ..from where gaze
     fearful hidden eyes 
  amid the scream of bullets  
      where women hide babies
 with hands covered by dirt. 
   Places of terror and death.

   And these are ours as well.
        For we are
  both the light 
    and the shadow.

   This world cannot see it's insane.

   But I will remember 
   what is real.
   And I, too, 
   will dim the room and burn incense
   for someone.
      and gather our small love 
  and peace 
   against the storm.

                                    gallagher
                                    20 Nov 87

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —