Bhakti

I have taken to reading

Robert Bly’s interpretation

Of 14th century Sufi poet Kabir

Early in the mornings

While soaking in the tub

Or sitting on the toilet

Expelling myself

Clearing my mind and body.

He speaks to me with rebellious originality.

His words are spiritual and religious

Yet intense about all things.

Simple, peaceful

Controversial.

I hear him

Praising

Living life

From within.

He sings his poems

With joy to me

As both man and woman

And I believe him.

I realize

There is no irony

In absorbing these poignant words

While

I myself

Press a red oval indentation

Of a toilet seat

Deep within

The flesh of my ass.

“If you don’t break your ropes while you’re alive

Do you think ghosts

Will do it after?”

Kabir