the guru

We bow our heads in quiet
servitude to the dust, our lips
form prayers to gods, who
long ago abandoned us.

We huddle together in a candle
lit room; frankincense, jasmine,
and sage, form  broken patterns
in the air; amethyst rock, lapis lazuli,
crystal quartz, and rose guard the
four corners of the room, silent
sentries and witnesses to our gloom.

Here we try to replicate
perfect peace profound, but
how will we ever know peace
when we can’t recall her name?

We close our eyes to quiet our
minds and search for peace
against the turmoil of the day.
Eirene begins to cry, she knows
we will not find her here
among these relics of the past.

The guru takes the mic.
He’s seen the wondrous light
and has come to lead us there
to death’s dream kingdom.

His words, mellow and sweet,
strokes the back of our necks
and lulls us to sleep, and deeper
we travel to death’s other kingdom.

The guru licks his lips and passes
the offering plate around, let us pray!
The guru smiles, he knows we will
not see the light, how can we when
our eyes are closed?

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