3 A.M. Meditation by Amy Haible

In the beginning 

of the dead of winter, 

this warm bed,

a cocoon, while snow 

falls gently in the dark outside.

Awake now, warm inside, cold out,

the presence of all awareness calls me

to remember – 

the four walls of this room are

but ephemera, 

filmy apparitions 

made in the geometry 

of a silent mind.

Oh mind! 

Whose mathematical

precision delights in mazes

this small person cannot fathom.

I could spend lifetimes

going down the road of this

arithmetic, and in the end

each quadratic would simply fold

back into itself until

form after form,

world after world,

universe and universe,

of illuminated illusion, 

I would see

that all of it is nothing

but my own self at play

In the fields of a lord that is my Self.

Veiling my Self

To my self,

and finding joy in the rediscovering

time after time. 

Until love, and only that,

calls me forward to some long forgotten

final joining,

which would be the beginning of the end of winter,

of all cold seasons, all dim worlds,

gently, calmly, warmly, sighing

themselves back into the one breath,

the one that ends all breathing

and rests in the dark, warm, womb of

eternal beingness.

But now, still the breathing wills

to breathe itself in me.

On the outbreath, I give all to All.  

On the inbreath I am knowing

all arises in the One I Am.

It calls out, “Let it arise!”

“Hold to nothing!”

So I rest awake and fully focused.

No thought, however miserable or pleasurable.

No feeling, idea, or sensation is too small or too big.

They are all breathed into this awareness

and returned outward to the great

infinite, empty, fullness

until I am nothing but the transparent 

presence in which they arise from nothing

and pass into nothing.

And it is here I find, beyond all doubt,

or reason, that

the peace and joy of God are mine.

That every gift I give is to my self.

That I am nothing but the 

giving and the receiving throughout eternity

in endless delight and imagined surprise.

That there is nothing, nothing I cannot take in.

And there is nothing, nothing I cannot breathe out

as all of it is freely accepted and still

there is room for more. 

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