Naked Song

                                            

*               *              *

Dance, Lalla, with nothing on but air. 
Sing, Lalla, wearing the sky.

Look at this glowing day! 
What clothes could be so beautiful, or more sacred? 

*               *              * 

I began as a bloom of cotton,

outdoors. Then they brought me to a room

where they washed me. Then the hard strokes

of the carder's wife. Then another woman

spun thin threads, twisting me

around her wheel. Then the kicks

of the weaver's loom made cloth,

and on the washing stone, washermen

wet and slung me about

to their satisfaction, whitened me

with earth and bone,

and cleaned me to my own

amazement. Then the scissors

of the tailor, piece by piece,

and his careful finishing work.

Now, at last, as clothes,
I find You and freedom.
This living is so difficult
before one takes your hand.

Whatever work I've done,
whatever I have thought,

was praise with my body
and praise hidden
inside my head. 

*         *        *

In this state there is no Shiva,
nor any holy union.

Only a somewhat something moving
dreamlike on a fading road.

Loosen the load of sweetness I'm carrying.
The sling-knot is biting into my shoulder.

This day has been so meaningless.
I feel I can't go on.

When I was with my teacher, I heard a truth
that hurt my heart like a blister,

the tender pain of seeing
something I loved as an illusion.

The flocks I tended are gone.

I am a shepherd without even a memory

of what that means, climbing this mountain.
I feel so lost.

This was my inward way, until I came

into the presence of a Moon, this new knowledge

of how likenesses unite. Good Friend,
everything is You. I see only God.

Now the delightful forms and motions
are transparent. I look through them

and see myself as the Absolute. And here's
the answer to the riddle of this dream:

You leave, so that we two
can do One Dance.

That one is blessed and at peace
who doesn't hope, to whom
desire makes no more loans.

Nothing coming, nothing owed. 

*         *         *

Just for a moment, flowers appear
on the empty, nearly-spring tree.

Just for a second, wind
through the wild thicket thorns.

Self inside self, You are nothing but me.
Self inside self, I am only You.

What we are together
will never die.

The why and how of this?
What does it matter? 

"Naked song" Lalla