And there is no way this could be otherwise

She is my teacher, of a certain kind:
As if there were no sentences to mind.

I wish you could imagine, how she looks,
Adjusting carelessly her glasses on her nose:

So, lesson one. Now, open your textbooks.
And... gently close. Forevermore. Do close.

Forget that sat-chit-ananda of yours:
All that your boy's worn-out wordy stuff.
I, by myself, am beauty-wisdom-love.


And there's no way this could be otherwise.


You got me at a reasonable price.
Too good a deal, to think about twice:

To give away—all that you never had.
To get what's always been your own instead.

Praptasya prapti, well, as you may guess.
Nivrittasya nivritti—that's a term.

That will be vast—acquired in return.
I'm trading lands for beads and blankets, yes.

Won't hurt me, 'cause I always have some more.
You know, there's all infinity in store.


And there's no way this could be otherwise.


You used to think yourself as "such and such".
Your world is "this" and "that' and there's too much.

There's my permission now to fantasize
Myself for you—whatever way you please.
I'll be just as you like me, and no less.

And then I'll dance—performing my striptease.
I'll even let you help me to undress.
And I will strip you naked, for my part.

It is my pedagogical device.

Well, I suppose, you couldn't wait to start.
There's something you should know beforehand.
This will be neti-neti to the end.
We will subtract, reduce, minimalize
Whatever's added—all this "extra" stuff.
And I will always say my "not enough":
Could not we get more naked? Tell me, love!
Unmaking everything—that we, so far, have made.

I'm Occam's razor. I don't even need a blade.

This adhyaropa-apavada game is nice,
Removing any possible disguise:
The Truth, at last—seen with one's own eyes—
That underlying anything abides...


And there's no way this could be otherwise.


When nothing's left between us anymore
What seemed to separate us here before:
Whatever difference,  distance,  borderline,
Dividing us in half on "yours" and "mine"—
Then even our sweet merging, clearly felt,
Should not be possible—but we, somehow, melt...

I'll ask you: what we are, exactly, now?
And you will whisper: prajnanam brahma.
Well, that would be the most that could be said.
And even that... a bit out of date.
Unwieldy,  though—but not entirely bad...

Intimacy, with no participants.
Embracement, with no use for any hands.
Sheer presence—vast alive expanse.
Sweet clarity... That's how it really ends.

A space, for just whatever to arise.
A ground, on which but anything relies.
Eternal substance, for whatever lives and dies.


And there's no way this could be otherwise.


But we're not there—not yet. That's not the End.
I'll lead you all the way, but there are steps.
Let's start from here—where we exactly stand—
Proceeding slowly, towards the very depths.


Now, tell me, sweetheart: what am I—to you?

I know what you are doing, nasty boys—
Imagining me, in some way and pose...
I meet this with my gracious equipoise.
But when you're not—those moments but a few—
Then what?

...Not much.
Sweet presence.
Quiet voice...

But I am silence—how come the voice?

...Don't know.
It's here.
It's definitely yours...

Well... there's a basis—ontological—to clear.
A status of existence—to define.
Establish ownership: it's yours—or rather mine?
Identify—just how it could appear?

There's still a lot for us to undermine.

Let's see, if it is real—or unreal?
Some fleeting fancy— something, that you feel.
Sat—or asat? Well, we don't know, still.

So, tertium non datur: there's no third.
Not even second—this should be discerned.
What could we mark as first, to name as "one"—
Where there's no numbers? "Tat" excludes your "twam".

It's true: ekam eva advitiyam.

Precisely 'cause it doesn't say too much.
But let's have two, for now—to be in touch.

Not that, not this—but, clearly, here it is.
Correctly spoken, rather "asi" than "exists".
Well, do you want an answer, to "what's this"?
The voice, I mean—or would you rather guess?
You know me, yes: I'll say, nevertheless.

That's how stillness moves—how silence speaks.

It's my reflection, love—in so called "you".
Which, in your own case, consists of words.
Well—I would say—entirely, almost.
That's why—for you—it sounds as a voice.

A place to meet for those who've never been apart.

It's me. I'm nameless. You can call me Heart.

A point of balance. But, between—though—what and what?
Between two truths. The one—to learn and teach.

The one, that ever is beyond the reach.
Could not be spoken of, thought of, cannot be taught.

And here you are. Don't know how and why.
With all that trash within your crowded head.
With all those layers, all around, never shed.
You probably just crawled in here, somehow,
You little wriggler. Does it matter now?
Well, you're here. It's yours—this should imply.


I'll tell my secret. What—for me—you've always been?
Not much. Soft presence. Quiet voice, within—
Soliciting me, from your solitude.
This often made me wonder: who's the dude?

I've liked it. It was definitely yours,
Though I would like to keep it for myself.
But you were hiding, all behind that old bookshelf...

Well, something happened.  Now what's yours is mine.
It's ours—if we care to define.
Or more precisely, now it's just a voice.
There's no more need for entities, of course.
As there is no more need for any choice:

It's one for both of us, it's ever all the same.
The very same—but still somehow unique.
As you to me, so I to you,  I claim.
And that's the only way for us to speak.


But there is more to it—and you will know, as well.
Oh, boys, with all that stupid kiss and tell...

So, as for now—wouldn't that be wise
To get you something sweet—to... verbalize?
Come closer. That's an order. Close your eyes.


And there's no way this could be otherwise


Oh, my... Her lessons, always striking to the core...
She taught me—she was not at all a bore—
Just how to dive—into the "neither-nor".
She was enticing, as a widely open door.
But now we seem to be—still naked—on the shore...

I say to her, as in the times of yore—
For which I have some reverence, as before—
As if it is a reference. But it's more:

Your soles—sole solace for my soul.
You are my way, as well you are my goal.
So, now—for me—you're everything and all...
But there's a question.  I was thinking hard.
But I am still before the stone wall.
Are you the guru-tattva? Tell me that!

...Too smart. The game is over. Call me Heart...

She smiles and winks. And then she gently sighs.
 

And there's no way this could be otherwise.