Surrender

Let surrender be the subtlest hint

of an amnesia

from tension and control.

Do surrender

with not the slightest gesture

towards intent.

Do not name any particulars,

not even muttered,

for the mind as master

would once again misstate.

Surrender . . . less this word,

not even this concept

born out of thought no more.

For surrender is ignited

as if fiercely being quartered

by four horses into light

that is subsequently drown

in a flash flood of paradoxical fire

while the solid self ingot

of recognition is liquefied

into a foreboding inhalation brew

soon thickly swallowed into soul

as the chalice of time

you sip your life from,

toasts this Judas trait of yours.

For each sip’s pathway

dissolves of itself.

Recognition, as a long time friend,

is ever to so slowly dim to fade

as the inner sky of now

is exploding

with split-second’s stampedes

of full bore letting goes.

Surrender. . . alas

a final wince and toast

before the painlessness

of coming home.

A wily journey without reprise,

a directionless ascent

as illumination finely grinds,

as if to faint

into enormity’s embrace

this, as a full emptiness,

not to be revived.

Welcome into your surrender

with true overwhelm . . .