Full Moon Metta Talks

Oh you thought I could talk about the heart
the subtle way the armor shifts.
The many layers that hold it in place
and cover it with trance.
Or the ice that chills the fear
and freezes the heart.

At night, even the light through the window shades,
asked the moon to come
and press its face against mine.

Yes, breathing into me,
closing the dream world,
eyes open, 3 AM
shutting off the world of words.
A soundless shadow of the heart
knowing; like a bird nesting,
would gather all our flaws in celebration.

Could it be, uncovering another layer --
breath -- wedded to both body -- mind
seemingly uncomplicated and unfabricated
that this small movement,
the smallest shifts,
allows -- heart freed from its trance
to shine like the moon,
undiluted by the window shades of our stories.

To merge with it perfectly, impossibly
it opens and closes
"the sure hearts release"
a promise given by the awakened one
thousands of years ago.

I know, you know, we know
I remember, you remember, we remember
that's enough, you're enough, this is enough.

the eye drops off to sleep.