Enter the Mandala: A Poem About the Experience

You enter the mandala
through the center bindu heart of being,
slide like silken honey
into shimmer morning dewdrops
ringing chimes resounding bells
through all of nature…
spirits vibrating with patterns in motion
—permanent, ephemeral,
all single-stream continuous—
aflow through valleys green and wet and
ripe with plums and cherries
where you wander, eyes wide open as the sky,
senses fiery and alive to every contact,
floating fleeting
searching
through woods of shadow mystery
every day and every night,
seeking subtle sweet relief from
desperation dread desire,
the lust for hard cold fast material
that drives each thought, each action,
but will never be fulfilled…
and so you shiver from shadow to shadow,
meander from dusk until dawn,
when the moment of magic envelopes
—the crack of the frozen eternal—
the knife-edge-sharp instant in time
when connections emerge from the air,
when the shapes of the pattern
merge fast with the night and
the lines and the angles
form luminous alignments
that flow to reach in, touch
warm fingertips upon your heart
and then you sense the unity,
the singular essence,
all-encompassing, pervading
lingering and loving
everything that ever was
and is and will become again,
the flowering motes of eternity,
the infinite eyes of the universe,
and with this renewed vision you may
glimpse
the truth of the mandala,
the you in me and me in you in everything
and feel the rigid walls
of worlds within and worlds without
disappear like morning mist
upon the rising of the sun,
dissipate as rays of golden brilliance
enlighten
brighten all the world,
and thus is born the truth in beauty
cloud-sway passive wisdom
that opens your awareness to
the you in the mandala,
the mandala within you,
and you will see with
stone-in-river clarity,
with open vision
rapid breath
expanding spirit
brilliant mind
that you have lived
within its heart
and it in yours
for ages immemorial.

December 6, 2003
by Peter Patrick Barreda, material copyright 2009, all rights reserved