By Ishmael von Heidrick-Barnes
The Gods Find Me
If I had a rupee
for every manifestation of the Divine
that has crossed my path
I’d be wearing
the gold embroidered silk
of a wealthy landowner
rather than the cotton thread
of a Brahmin/poet
an untouchable station of life
in a society
squeezing a “few drops of honey” from a thirsty globe
enslaved by suffering
Have faith
you don’t have to believe
the gods will find you
A month after
Buddha
raised his head from the side of road
Ganesha
washed out of ocean
onto
Torrey Pines State Beach
The Hindu deva of dawn
patron of arts
cast out upon sand
Maybe it was my lowly station in life
that wouldn’t allow me to abandon
the remover of obstacles
to rising tide
I immersed the four-armed Deity
in bottled water
placed the long snouted avatar
in the trunk of my blue Toyota Echo
drove him home
Liberation from the bondage of surf
was a few flights of stairs
from the trunkless Siddhartha
meditating a tree on balcony
I left the two spiritual beings
to break the causal chains of bondage:
A cosmic duel
between knowing and noselessness
on a table
submerged in sunlight’s lotus