Bardo
Sunday, September 2nd, 2007- When I hear the whine
of freeway tires,
I imagine it’s like
the roar one hears
while crossing
the bardos of death.
- So I practice relaxing
the six gates
and remaining
undistracted from
my Guru’s face.
When I’m dreaming asleep
attacked by some being,
or by wind,
if I call my Guru’s name,
I’m thankful thinking
I might also call out to Her
at the moment of death.
Judging by appearances,
I’m pretty sure this was not
a consciously chosen birth.
I may have been drunk.
If not with alcohol,
certainly with ambition
and competitiveness.
But in this life
at least I have learned
I need help.
And I practice to
remember that.
Shambhavi
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