Human Divine

Beloved Son
In the depth of your depression
In the tempest of your anxiety
In the nightmare of your fear

Rest, My Boy, and Remember
If not divinity experiencing humanity
If not humans in search of the Divine
What are we?

Awaken, My First, and Remember
If not for the touch of that Revered Field of Being
If not for the sense of Awe of Unity and Truth
What is wonder?

Be Free, My Blood, and Remember
If not to confine the Divine in the Dark Dungeons of the Seductive Intellect
If not to foolishly attempt to conquer it with the Powerful Might of the Word
If not to pursue its boundaries with the Bleeding Blade of Logic
If not to reduce it to a religion or tradition or science or ritual or nothing
If not to avoid feeling its awakening, beautiful, loving Essence
Because it’s also blinding, deafening, painful, and humbling
What is it to be human?

Let go, My Precious, and Remember
If not to let go
Of the Story of Self
Of the Fiction of Me and Them
Of the Noble Falsehood of Witness and Object
Of the Illusion of Separateness
What is it to touch the Divine?

Deepen your Practice, My Teacher, and Remember
If not for one brief moment receiving the Truth
What is death but a transition?
What is fear but a falsehood of the Human Story?
What is war?
What is hate?
What is crime?
What is suffering?
What is peace?
What is love?
What is equanimity?
What are these but the honored guests of Rumi’s House?

Beloved Son
At the peak of your joy
In the calm of your peace
In the ease of your wakefulness
Know that I love you with all my being and

I dedicate this poem to my son and guru. Not yet a year old, he continues to teach me more about curiosity, presence, and life than anyone. This was inspired by a deep conversation on experiencing the Divine with a gifted teacher and friend to whom I am eternally grateful.