I don't know what this is,
This Warmth in the Heart,
This Bliss bubbling up from the wellspring of the Being,
This Radiance that heals and blesses,
And intoxicates myself and others.
Confused by the chaos of “spirituality”,
All the descriptions of Dharma,
All the stories of who, what, when, where, why, and how,
All the do's and don'ts, the assertions of certitude,
I sit in Myself, and breathe Bliss.
“I can't meditate anymore with you,” I said,
“For I don't know what any of this is or what it means,
Or what to do or not do.”
And my friend replied, “But… it just feels good,
Like standing in a shower of Blessings,
Like soaking in a jacuzzi of Grace.
Let's be simple-minded, you and I,
And let that be reason enough to sit together and soak?”
“Why do you trouble yourself," he said,
"With why and wherefore?
Let's be Idiots, you and I,
And put 'knowledge' aside,
And all that cosmic hoo-hah that troubles you so.
If this Grace is real,
It will Bless us,
Even if we call it…Bob,
And haven't a clue what it is,
Or what it all means.”