God is love

(Advaita-bhakti-darshana)

God is love - this abides through the ages, like wine and bread.
So, at last, I do know precisely how
It holds true - being me, being here and now,
Being just as you wanted me: sad and wet.

Sad, because I'm still here all alone, as yet.
Wet because - you can touch me, you know - I'm ready.
You can ask me, of course - and you certainly will - how steady,
How straightforward am I? How determined, and how mature
Is my mind? So to say, am I really sure?

You do like some maturity. Sorry, alas, my dear,
That I lack. Though, it seems,  there is a shortcut here.
So I'll go, if I may,  decisively all the way,
Just from here, where I happen for now to stay.

///Please, don't stop me. You can't, by the way. Don't say
That I should undergo some change, being underage.
That will end here in me in nothing but just more rage.

Please, don't stop me. You can't, by the way. Don't say
This u-word of yours, rather dismissively: underage.
That will end here in me in nothing but some more rage.

Only in just more rage////

Now, you see, still a novice   am I. So, a little shy.
Should I say? No, confess. Yes, it is my first time. Oh, my.

You were hiding from me, until now, on my behalf.
You've been found. No more hide-and-seek.  Enough.
Something old, something new. Mostly borrowed. Pretty blue.
Now all this I'm about to shed for you.
There's a coin in my shoe. Well, in both of them - just in case.
Eases the passage - they say, in the good old days.

Let's go slow, my love. Don't you rush. Can you match my pace?
Here we are, anyway, already. At such a place,
Where there's no way out. No exits. No more escapes.
May I ask - if at all - can you somehow embrace
What you see? Tell me, please: am I, in a way, enough?
If asked, I should say - I'm sure - I am rather not.
I just hope - in a way - this won't be your only thought.
So, just watch me, my love, undressing for you. Don't laugh.

Oh, by the way, you've been found... Guess, where? Let's play!
Right in between, from the head to...  mm,  let's  just say,
Here you've dwelled: as my own, my very heart.
We weren't,  won't be, we never can be apart.
I've nothing to add  -  I'm  rather about to start
Removing all that, stockpiled there in the past.
Sweathart, I'm sorry, if this won't be that fast.

Watch me, peeling myself, stripping naked myself, for you.
Oh, I wish I could say there were earlier just a few
Of those who've seen this, have tasted, have touched and had
What I have now to offer. Right here, on this very bed.
It was fun. It was filth. Well, it was in a good way bad.

What am I? Just attention, in essence, and nothing more.
I would go with a stranger, first one, like a hungry whore.
It is here, in your presence, I seem to be rather shy.
Wasn't always like this - rather, wild. There was urge to lie
With anything, claiming me. Sweetheart, don't ask me why.

I was easily, eagerly giving myself away,
To whatever, whomever came. I should even say,
They were just for a single night, never meant to stay.
I was always compliant,ф yielding and soft like clay.
I just wanted to play. Here I am now, for you to play,
As I am. Neither precious nor pure. All yours.
You can do with me here whatever you want, of course.
You will not be the last, as you weren't, alas, my first.
You - beyond all that counts, too special - matter most.
You - beyond and above - be, I beg you, my Only One.
Like some Highlander... Sorry, forgive me this bloody pun.
It is getting too heavy, too serious, oh, can't you see?
A little piece of ice nicely prays to the peaceful sea.

You are still standing still. As for now, you didn't make
A move - not the slightest. I'm here, all yours to take.
What's meant to be drowned,  I assure you, that won't break.
So, no need to be overly careful. Just touch me, love,
While I'm here getting off with my dirty stuff.

You're still waiting - so delicate, tender, gentle.
Not so easy, I'd say, to shed now this heavy mantle.
All these layers upon layers... I  wrestle and fight.
There I am underneath - always naked, you see, inside.
Almost done. What is left - can it still veil and hide?

Oh, I know what I want. If I may. If that be your will.
Now, that makes it all easy, like this - you're standing still.
Us bad girls on our knees? Oh, rarely just to pray.
Let's play now, let's see, who's the hunter, and who's the prey.

I'm surely about to give you, my Heart, a head.
Anyway, in your presence it should be, like, humbly bent.
This is what, so I've heard, it was made for. Well, that's my stand.
Oh, what a relief, when it serves just for what it's meant...
It's not empty, as yet, but a mess, like a cluttered maze.
But there is - so you'll see, so I will have you feel - some space.
Let me touch you, my love, very gently, with all I have.
Don't you tell me, oh, please - never ever - I should behave.

Here we are. Now, for you, I'm all lips and tongue,
Gently wrapping myself around you, my precious one.
Moving slowly, gracefully, tenderly up and down.
Down and down and down and down... I sink and melt.
The deeper, the wetter. My hope this is clearly felt.

Love, you're making me silent, filling me here full.
At this depth I am almost still, yet I feel the pull:
An alluring, enticing, welcoming, teasing call,
Where there's no more me. No more you. No more us, at all.

Not much distance. Eleven inches. No more, no less.
Never made. It's a shame, it's a pity, I should confess.
You were here — as my I. Oh, my - as my own heart.
Always here. What took me so long to start?
How could I, me, myself, this way - so to say - to rob?
What is there to compare to giving a blowjob
To my God, to my very own heart, to the inner core?
Why I never - don't ask me,  darling - did so before?
Sliding, gliding - so tenderly, gracefully - up and down...
There can be only one, well, the only game in town.
The Way, as it is - as it is, by itself, the Aim.
Didn't know. Didn't care. Didn't do. Now - who's to blame?

Oh, so chatty, you see. So scattered I am, my love.
Make me silent — or else endure all this helpless stuff.
It's my very first time — don't forget, if I may so ask.
Should be moving — not talking, failing the whole task.
Into the deepest, the inner heartcave of mine.
After all, who is blown here, you or my own mind?
Aren't they — aren't we — in essence, one and the same,
Wrapped around each other,  merging together nicely?
That is how I feel. That is how we are, precisely.
Now and always. No less. That's my rightful claim.

Do you feel what I do, with my head, with my tongue and lips?
I'm  caressing you tenderly, fondling you with my words,
Kissing, touching, embracing you here with my dirty thoughts.
I have nothing to offer – except this. But this. Just this.
They are what I consist of, made of,  how I do exist.
They're all I've ever had. They're everything that I've brought
In your presence, my love - the Holy of Holies, Lord.
Now, it seems, apparently, someone weeps.

Sorry, sweetheart. So sloppy. So clumsy. I melt and flow.
Blown away, I'm still trying – somehow – to blow.
I know. Not full-blown, not quite. So, that's why so slow.

I am dripping. I'm lighter and lesser with every drop.
You are soaking me in. You whisper me: don't you stop.
Well, I know what you're doing—replacing me, with yourself.
There are only eleven inches. Not even twelve.

Here it ends. Here it is. Here it quietly always stays,
Abiding as stillnes and silence and pease and grace.
Just beneath all that is — a secret and sacred place.
Just beneath all that matters, that moves, that has name and form.
Here I am. Here I'm home —  making myself at home.

Just one touch of ours, love. Everything's done—almost.
What is found cannot be lost, as it never was.
It's the end of the way. There's nowhere to go from here.
There is nothing to do: there's no lack. So—no need, no fear.
Nothing special. Home is a place to dwell.
Very special place. All is well there. Simply well.

Just one touch of ours, love. Not much. Just a broken spell.
Just one touch of ours, love. Not much. Just a fallen veil.
Just one touch of ours, love. Not much. Just an open cell.
Just one touch of ours, love. Not much. Just an empty jail.



I was touching myself, here and there, from time to time.
It was fine. It was good. It was pleasure, you know, of mine.
It was all going on, and so on, for awhile, until
I was touched. That was different. Oh, certainly. That was real.
I don't know, can't remember exactly, can't tell the day.
It just happened, somewhere along the way.
There was balance at first. Some proportion as before.
Then there was less of me, more of you—more and more and more.
Then you won me, hands down, sweetheart. All odds were thine.

Just one touch. Short-circuit in sixty-nine.

I remember myself: on a threshold, unable to cross,
On the Path—and I knew, where it led me and what's the course.
I was helplessly praying—oh, please show me how to pass
To the other side—to become one with you—at last.
Then you answered—I heard you first time that day—
Hush! I'll take it from here. I Am. I will walk the way.
I'll trespass this threshold, to be—at last—one with  you.
So you did as you said. Hard to miss. Thus I knew... I knew...
It's forever—you said—there's nothing more here to gain.
Since that day you've been never lost, anymore again.

Now I'm seeing myself like a bridge. I'm between two shores.
There are sorrows and hardships and failures and troubles and chores.
But I know—on the other hand, on the other end
I am always already home. That's how I stand.

I meet anything, thinking: well... actually, come what may.
There was a burden, once. Now it's cast away.
I live both shores, alternately or side-by-side.
One to think, to relate, to deal with what comes, to write.
One to be. Just to be—as I am—in a flashing glimpse.
In the end, there can be only one—it seems.
One of them. One of us. So, darling, exactly which?
Who am I to decide? How can I  divide with speech,
Define and confine the Divine? Where to draw the line?
I don't know. That's a secret delight of mine.

Shores. Chores. Of course. Oh, stories. I've had enough.
Dance me, sweetheart, again and again, to the end of love.

This is what I was going to say, just before the end.
I can't wait. So I'll say straight away to you what I meant.
You do love hide-and-seek. Sure, my love, it's your favorite game.
Now go find me, the shy tiny spark, in Thy shining flame.