NAKED IN THE BARDO

Entering the room streaming,
realizing a thing forgotten next day,
getting slowly into bed with the sleeping beloved —
this moment unlike any other,
even the last —

unless you are the one
who was denied the freedom to quest for love,
but granted knowledge of emptiness (anyway) —
knowing you will never know the suffering,
or the flowers, or the light.

Still, there is a lineage of compassion
for yourself and others who believe their feelings
are eternal and solid like stardust and pie crust —
the ones whose bodies live briefly
owning only the right

to stand naked.

10/4/24

Altadena