← v7n2, Fall 2008
Poetry · Volume 7, Number 2

Past Lives

Go ahead. There’s only the one life,

really, even if there are more.

Whoever takes us by the hand

and sets us on the path to the temple

must be trusted. A prince,

a weaver, a carpenter.

This is the way the living instruct us.

Not with money or power. To that

I become deliberately blind.

Everything happens at least

twice anyway, once in the body

and once in the soul.

I stare at the green bills without seeing,

a self-chosen idiot savant.

In every cell some

happiness lurks, you can feel

it when somebody

hugs you. Go ahead,

happens then. Go, and hang out in the bardo,

move along. There are 54 wrathful deities

and 48 peaceful deities

you will have to meet. Try to

feel the channel-wheel

at the heart. And if

you really must, try to take a birth

where you can get some work done.

Go on. There’s only this one.