The Mandala's Call
A poem trying to capture my experience of the dakini mandala
I wandered through the night’s vast veil,
Where ancient wheels of thought prevail,
A sacred dance of form and mind,
In patterns infinite, I find.
The woods of old, with copper glow,
Did letters strange in silence flow,
Their tongues unknown to human ken,
Yet whispered truths beyond all men.
Padmayogini’s guiding hand,
A pilgrim from a distant land,
Led me to halls where Dakini play,
And mysteries claim their secret way.
An arrow swift, of deepened care,
Struck through my throat, a gift laid bare,
Kurukulla’s red-bowed aim,
Did spark within a subtle flame.
But as I entered, not alone,
My guardians from the earth had grown—
Taniwha, kaitiaki near,
Stirred the realm with trembling fear.
Confusion reigned, and whispers low,
In realms where lion faces show,
Simhamukha, calm and bright,
Brought peace upon the wings of night.
Fierce Ekajati, breasts aglow,
With fiery words and nipple show,
Did not mind the guest, or the cheeky guide,
Hosting, through her love, a truth did bide.
“We see you,” their voices said,
Both fearsome ones and kindly fed.
Though I, a guest upon their hill,
Felt foreign to their mystic will.
Yet, still they watched, with piercing eye,
Beyond the veil, beyond the sky—
The mountain copper, distant gleam,
Where Padmasambhava does sit serene.
In shadows bright and light unseen,
I wandered where the worlds convene.
Attended by my spirits wild,
Yet seen, and known, though but a child.
A traveler through the veils of night,
In awe of wisdom's burning light,
I tread where ancient paths unwind,
And seek the truth that unbinds the mind.
