Samadhi

Trying to communicate what cannot be expressed,

is like asking if water can wet itself,

talking about something that doesn't exist,

words still drip from the water barrel,

but cannot penetrate the glass,

but still the drops are felt,

The barrier of the mind is too gross to enter the divine,

it must be subdued, refined,

sharpened to the point that it cuts itself,

and when it cuts itself, then it learns

to never cut itself,

The real meaning of control is to let go,

the only object to renounce is the idea of renunciation,

then the curve is seen as straight,

logic and mysticism fall in the same place,

high is low and low is high,

the first has now become the last,

the paradox becomes obvious,

the body is now seen as the most sacred virgin,

the mind is tamed for it is the birthplace of sin,

suddenly everything is understood,

the infinite is now possible,

the heavens reachable,

all the spiritual blessings fall at my feet,

but I desire nothing but to be

the shepherd's disciple

Resurrect

Going to sleep but still awake,
slipping into a different state,
where words are lost and forgotten,
and never to be found,
a state where the description is the described,
the experience is the experiencer,
but what if there is no experience,
the hand of the mind is at rest,
the soul rests on its nest,
the mind constantly asks "how do you know?"
but I take a step back and say the answer is already known,
without the hypothesis the experiment wouldn't arise,
the question is just a clever disguise,

behind the question is the answer,
they are actually one,
separating the two will only make you numb,
knowing this will derail the the train of thought,
mysticism cannot be taught,
and most of the time it is misunderstood,
a state that isn't tangible like wood,
but it is still felt,
more subtle than air,
more quiet than a mute's whisper,

the path of Yoga is narrow,
many sink, a few make it pass the limbs into the bone marrow,
where you taste its sweet juice,
the science is dangerous and only for the few,
Christ said it straight,
I knew he guided me as soon as I crossed the gate,
May twenty second was when I died,
He brought me back to life...

Step first

The process is painful for its reasons alone,
the mind has to be dethroned,
scriptures reveal the unknown,
thousand petals trapped in a dome,
waiting to blossom, waiting to flower,
the seeds are scattered,
nothing but darkness until a thread of light appears,
what was far is now near, and what was near
is now flat

The projector is shut off,
the seer sees from the peaks of the loft,
looking at itself, is it possible?
everything is loud, gross, opposite of subtle,
words are muttered,
sutras are uttered,
the blind see nothing but themselves,
trapped in the gates of hell,
cold snow and hot sand,
aimlessly wandering with no plan,
psychological suffering disappears,
the mind is quiet, the eyes finally see,
the ears finally hear,
the senses moving independently,
time has finally become a memory,

The last step into infinity,
lies and truth fall into the pit of obscurity,
the world of intellect looks absurd to me,
but I must function intelligently,
or lose my sanity,
the intelligence of the heart knows no duality,
the mind can only organize and systematize,
the body can only give birth,
to approach God the heart must step first