Doors in Rows and Lines Await
(after the 1915 drawing “Meditation,” by Jav Zrzav)
Saplings rise above me,
reminders of my place
and part in this incarnation.
Eyes gently shut so I may see
the budding One within me, glowing
against the darkness of not-sleep,
the meter of my breath forgotten,
I open the rest of Me, welcoming
whatever comes to join my Path.
My left hand resting on my breast —
someone did that for me once,
in a world so vastly old and different —
reminds of the nurturing Mother.
My right is crossed above my heart,
not as some sign of my allegiance
but of my mortality, that what I fail
will try me again the next time here,
while tests passed will form foundations.
I am not yet One with Everything,
but I’ve been blessed with the chance.