This Darn Vajra Guru Thing

This entire life

I have been trusting in the Vajra Guru

I had faith in him beginning in childhood

when the feeling welled up without face or name

yet he always remained my hidden diamond in this mere phantom appearance

refracted through a thousand broken shards of bewilderment year after year

before I met any of his manifestations in the flesh

I had painted him life-size on my apartment wall towering

in storm and rain & hail from the darkness of my unenlightened heart

I felt as if I was indeed circling with his dancers celebrating

at which moment the faith of the inner sky merged with the faith of

the outer sky to forever remain with the invincible

in person

I met the Vajra Guru as the perfect monk of yore

speaking in hushed tones as if every word was soft as honey

and every syllable the jewel of absolute such-affirming truth

I met the Vajra Guru in public wearing a black hat

& in private pointing out the great seal through every pore

his body as pliant as a giant baby of the forever unborn as it manifests

I met the Vajra Guru as the perfect tamer of beings

even though he wore dirty slacks  to a cheap Chinese house robe

& his hair was unwashed with an oily shine & his voice screeched

I met the Vajra Guru introduced by others as the perfect yogi

with whom I never knew how to communicate except wordlessly

but still he blessed me much and sealed me in retreat

I met the Vajra Guru as the best of friends

who simply gave everything he had & in the end even his very life

promising never to leave – a word which he still keeps

*****

to some this Vajra Guru thing will sound

like the senseless heroics of  a bygone age

or worse materialize like egomania incarnate

but then who listens to the habitual nay sayers

who insult ear & nose alike with their bad breath

shouting eternally returning slogans of fickleness

destined to be drowned

in the thundering waves of

the guru’s instructions

*****

may the laughing vajra shatter

such & every other birdbrain notion

apart from allowing the heart of hearts

to bloom from its centerless center

we don’t need to make a spectacle

& thus a nuisance of ourselves

© Choyin Dorje 2018