Love Letter From Nirvana

I don’t believe there is only one, true love.

Maybe, at one point in time, I bought the product

of manipulated childhood programming

Disney movies, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, organized religion

but I’ve since disconnected from the server,

and I believe there are many lives

in the same tapestry of time

because there are so many beautiful moments;

I fall in love over and over again,

and each time is special and new

each love is different in its tender hue.

All these people who walk me home

we part ways in grief and anger and despair

we may never meet again,

but the love I felt

will always be there.

I believe I am a nomad; lonely wanderer.

Maybe, loss has jaded me, left me cold

at a time when they say the planet has never been hotter.

Greenhouse gasses, rising sea levels, melting glaciers, extinction;

I live a life of servitude, of pleasure in serving you,

and I don’t believe the rich are better than the poor

or that I am reincarnated for physical wealth.

I seek the flowers and the trees and homeostatic synchronicity.

The one true love I search for,

is fleeting and disappearing

for it takes no human form.

We meet in mountain streams

beyond the rainbow meadow from my dreams

where we have no names.

I believe there is a portal

wherein all my selves collide.

A junction of stars, planets, galaxies;

mist rising from the river like some sort of milky way.

Somewhere in the mountains

there is a place where time and matter fade from day.

There is an Everest of evolution

a cyclical event when we really get lost

we disappear into the highest cloud

never to be seen or heard from again,

and even our demons

do not follow us there.

I believe we can touch eternity together

that I reflect in you what your eyes have missed

that I am but a portal to your inner holy tryst.

I believe I am a brief visitor in this world

and to meet any other along the way

is a beautiful and universal gift

because we are all disappearing into our own Everest.

Walking into hypoxia and withering into fine lines

and aged eyes and maybe even scared to die—

But when I am quiet with you,

and our souls translate into a single moment of togetherness

there are no numbers or concepts that matter;

I can not quantify my love into some material good

as though it is cheap and easy, religiously organized into the one.

I am already there

where it does not hurt

where I have untied the noose

where the flowers and trees and deer

welcome me home.

Where the owl takes me in it’s wings

and hoo’s just one, true song.

Where the past and the future fade

into time’s eternal resting place.

I am there

in nomadic soul

in the river of marrow and bone

of lonely, lonely stone.

I am there

In one, true love

standing at my Everest

walking myself home.