This month’s poem comes from the pen of Tantric poet Tara. Delight in her orgasmic, juicy, joyful celebration of the body and senses, Let’s Eat Each Other.
Let’s eat each other
and become each other,
lose and find ourselves in each other,
tumbling over and over,
rolling in heather and in clover.
Let’s breathe each other
and vanish in the we-ness of existence,
flowing endlessly into being,
knowing that there is only the present moment,
extracting the nectar,
savouring the succulence,
rejoicing in the juice,
gorging ourselves on the gorgeousness of being truly present in the heavenly home that is the body,
that humungous habitat,
the only place where it’s at.
Riding the waves,
rising and falling,
trusting and surrendering,
no longer holding on for dear life
but tenderly dancing with death cheek to cheek.
Not dicing, no not dicing,
but enticing, inviting, courting
and seeking to fully embrace that ultimate surrender.
Truly to live,
fully to give,
wholly to be.
And now understand the meaning of ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’
and transcend now duality,
be with what is,
accept without reservation my ecstatic undulation.
Now seeing beyond what the eye perceives,
falling into the vanishing,
knowing in that moment there is only self
and knowing this,
feel the infinite variety of experience within.
For all else is an illusion
and thus embracing the paradox,
finally getting the cosmic joke,
I lie and a mandala make,
I sit and eat my birthday cake,
For on this day I am born anew
and I see all the wealth and paucity that I contain
in you and you and you and you.
Doth not thou see?
The dam that breaks in you is washing over me
and I bow down at my magnificence
I bow down to love.
Suddenly, all at once my mind is filled with a new and radiant clarity
my maker wants for me this precious rarity
and truly I am blessed
as I emerge from this crystal chrysalis
words spring from my lips
and love bursts out from my very fingertips.
My heart is all aglow
and from the back aflame,
my delicacy I wear right regally like a filigree cloak
poetry flows full worsted and unimpeded from my pen
as I whirl from pregnant rosebud to pregnant rosebud,
caressing and exclaiming,
appreciating the exquisite promise of blossom
and softly do I whisper a peal of sweet, sweet nothings
as I all drunk inhale the subtlest scent.
As my teachers one and all help me to see
we build the temple of love from moment to moment.
I love you without attachment,
I love you more deeply than I ever knew.
What serious fools we are to hem it in!
Oh slowly, softly, gently, ecstatically, like the honey bee-ing, treeing,
Evolve into lovevolve lovevolve
I reach inside and idly pluck a pomegranate flower.