Sting of a wasp
Rip of a nail
A razor’s slice
The needle’s plunge.
A piercing word
A stab of betrayal
The boundary crossed
A trust broken.
In this lacerating moment
Pain is all you know.
Life is tattooing scripture into your flesh,
Scribing incandescence in your nerves.
Right here
In this single searing point
Of intolerable concentration,
Wound becomes portal.
Dive through to the wild brilliance of the Self.
~ Vijnana Bhairava Tantra
Those who will not slip beneath the still surface on the well of grief,
You and I have spoken all these words / but for the way we have to go, words are no preparation
"I hope to God you will not ask me to go anywhere except my own country
In the heart of Gaza, where ancient stones whisper tales of endurance
In remembrance of the renowned jazz saxophonist, composer, and SGI Buddhist practitioner
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