First, open. First, let in.
Root down, rise-up, invite connection.
Sometimes I do, baihui to huiyin
& a pole of white light I try to stoke. Aglow.
Sometimes, it feels like lead. Weighted, drab, sparkle-less. Dull.
Sometimes I shake it out and it disappears and evaporates
Sometimes I shake, and it just settles down, again
And I do not have to arrive.
But I still try, to open.
Let in. Root down, rise-up, invite connection.
I try to summon that beam of light connecting heaven and earth.
I try to stop puttering about in my brain,
Strategizing about the rain I must bike through, the next quiz, the street sounds.
I try to gracefully set aside my agitation, my impatience, my irritation.
I try to close my eyes and let the room wash away.
I feel my heart-beat, my legs strong, my breath steady.
I see black mysterious seas against cold snow-capped mountains.
Majestic white tigers with quiet intensity, circumambulating the perimeter.
Reptilian green-blue scaly and glistening dragons, casting medieval shadows.
Fiery birds with golden feathers and sharp breaks, rising up to meet the sun.
And slowly, I define my aura.