What is Not Here is Nowhere
Tuesday, January 2nd, 2007Sometimes I get sick of this
human vision.
The dharmadhatu
shines through all.
The full moon tantalizes
even through dense fog.
Last night,
I dreamt I was hired
at an hourly wage
to investigate
someone else’s crime.
I walked the streets
diligently performing
this incomprehensible work
until near dawn.
Finally,
the shops and bars
closed down.
I tried to phone a hotel.
Are there any beds left? I wanted
to ask.
But a neon sign flashed:
“The phones are jammed.”
I was alone
and suddenly free
in the empty street.
As I walked on,
I discovered
a ripe half melon
had been in my hand
the whole time.
Why had I left it so long without
tasting?
I raised the fruit to my mouth.
The pink flesh
glowed from the
street lamp’s
reflected light.
The cool juice flooded
my throat,
ending
thirst.
Shambhavi
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