all is self-inquiry already pseutra

seven billion selves suffering to know oneself

in seven billion welcome different loving ways,

all shimmering facets of the one diamond way.

nothing is ever wrong because

every apparent self is intending toward thatself

by following the love of oneself

in the best way imaginable.

the best way imaginable isn't

'the ends justify the means' or vice versa

but the hidden realization

the means are the ends *and* vice versa.

once seeing

'for I to know anything, I must first know this I,'

then any meaning of the universe is obviously

intent to know That, I.

Swan Song

At the wild mouth of the Merrimack, 

I pivot north to rove the shore. 

My Atlantic is quite pacific today; 

I feel my lake-like waves advancing 

like the white caps on a pond 

that seems like adolescent yesterday 

although it’s fifty years in memory now.

I didn’t know I was the lake back then,

and when I dived into the water

from the Dubois diving board,

I was really diving in myself.

This later insight arrived in meditation.

Earlier this morning I saw a swan upriver

floating on the slow outgoing tide.

I felt its graceful curve of neck in mine

as I turned to watch it pass, a brilliant

arc of white within the silvery mist.

Our silence watches all of this and knows

that none of this is what I am;

space-time is a single dream with infinite

dimensions in unfathomable intent.

Listen, the swan is going out to sea.