By Oleg Yuzefpolsky
Header image art by Oleg Yuzefpolsky
And so I call on You,
Like a fainting, thirsty man is calling for water,
O, Mahamudra, the inseparable fabric appearing as multitudes and opposites,
O, Mahamudra, your very fabric is made of mystery,
O, Mahamudra, without you
I am a purposeless sack tossed by winds
Of incessant thoughts and feelings.
In your grace, Mahamudra,
I surrender my heart, so not a smudge of ego remains,
In your blessing, O, highest peak,
I cleanse my mind of any obscurations of words and meanings,
So I can finally see just energy.
O, Mahamudra, without you I’m at war, inside and outside myself.
I must become You.
I have diminished myself to sub-particles,
And when even these dispersed and only space was left,
The humiliation of being nothing – turned out to be Your benediction and purest of freedoms bestowed.
O, Mahamudra, Your song flows silently through cosmos,
Yet it is the loudest inner core,
And those hearing it, emit the light from flesh and smile in love