The following is a poem that came out nearly complete and in the tradition of ecstatic writing. The moment the poem was complete, the author entered into a state of meditative absorption known in Hindu philosophy as samadhi. The poem is here for educational purposes for those attempting to understand spiritual experience, samadhi, consciousness, and kundalini energy—or as Dylan Thomas once so eloquently wrote, the force that through the green fuse drives the flower.

Einstein My Guru

Opportunity is the legacy of evolution.

The inevitable draw, specialization.

A sharp beak!

And all from light colliding with light.

The death of a star,

a needle point expansion.

A dimple in the fabric with all that cosmic baggage.

And from this:

Feast & Famine.

War & Peace.

We’re so blessed.

Impulse, inevitable.

And from this, vast libraries.

Leather bound collections where

rationalism

justifies

attraction.

For oil.

For admiration.

For atomistic ambitions.

That’s a sharp beak, indeed!

ENTROPY!

Rise up or brace for impact!

But how?

Buddha might know,

or

the nuns praying up a psychedelic

hit

of

bliss.

Some call it the way things are.

Some call it the Tao.

Smile!

Feel the sun.

Notice the trees.

Some say it’s a moment,

some say awareness and they

train,

train,

train.

Like Olympians.

Like Samurai.

They alone gnawed upon by

the

Sense of Urgency.

Bye-

Bye

Forced Ambitions

Bye-

Bye

Blue Mondays

&

War & Greed.

Bliss in the Now

Might be the sharpest beak, indeed!

All the American saints knew:

Turn on,

tune in,

&

drop out, man.

Excess and adoration, such exhausting preoccupations.

The mystics knew.

Analogies they offered to grasp.

Like a father!

Like love!

Some grasp the analogies.

I love you, Mom.

To grasp and miss

the

point.

Albert was a poet.

Maybe he missed

or was the most concise in history.

The neuroses of the samurai

occasionally produce the nobel-est of Medals.

Maybe that’s why

the value on diamonds & gold.

Glucose on reserve,

man’s starch.

What’s the redox potential of a dollar bill?

Just trust in that neurotic genius.

Matter

will always

drill for energy.

It’s a Holy Marriage,

an eternal & cosmic courtship.

We love the electron, but forget that source.

It’s just magnets

blindly building beaks—

of both carbon and thought.

And Albert felt it there in the depths.

The Jews

have

that

Cosmic guilt.

Just read the book of Job.

That fear touches places beyond language.

Descarte had it.

Galileo transcended it,

if just for that brief moment.

Heidegger knew it when he saw it,

that neuroses to merge into the bliss.

There’s truths, some elemental & some man-made,

that only the mad ones and the mystics must reconcile.

That regardless how special the beak,

in the logic of energies

of microbes

and men

E

will

always

equal

mc²

Energy ∞ Matter