In my wandering emptiness,
you are tangible,
the source of the world which
anchors me.
I’ve wandered in darkness seeking
glimmering traces of
you,
the scent of gingerbread dough and
yarrow.
Take me home
is the mantra that guides
me through the winding paths
of your garden.
When my body is cold and
empty, your blinding blue
lightning explodes in my heart,
reminds me that this world of
10000 things,
this world of illusions appearing
real,
of particles held together by divine
consciousness,
is both the prison that keeps me
from you,
and also my ticket
to your door.
