Red Room Where the Writers Are

i moved to Cali with a carload of stuff

and i've got a hankering to move away

with a smaller carload of stuff.

i like to pull out all my stuff sometimes

and go through, pare down, give away,

toss, re-read, burn...and still, I keep

having stuff.

morning sadhana's like that, everyday,

sometimes the stuff has rat crap on it

from being in a corner of the basement,

or brings up crap from a relationship,

or reminds me of the fact

that if I cleanse, I gotta keep

that agni burning bright

or my crap will get backed up.

As I breath in kundalini kriyas,

I chant the mantra, Sat Nam

'truth is my identity'   magnifying,

magnetizing to all the places

and times within that don't practice

that belief,

and I clean house

~my body temple~

subconsciously,

rising early before dreams

Sometimes the chatter of thoughts

is a blazing rainstorm

sometimes i'd like to fall back asleep,

when it's tough, I know it's working,

and I keep practicing...

ong namo, guru dev namo

I recognize, call upon divinity

within, the guru, the healer within

~sat nam ~ truth is my identity