Thangka of Tibet

Stone, stone and scant soil,
Dragons of heat and cold lashing the body,
Summer squalls of lightning
Blows sandstorms and hail,
Avalanches of light sear the mind,
Thunder chases across the grasslands,
Only 40 million years ago
All this was under the Sea of Tethys.

Black, white or red, the serpent spirits
Coil electric about precious stones;
The demoness lies supine across
The land, naked, knees raised
And splayed, vulva exposed,
And rock-ogresses
Stalk after human prey.
Nail the earth down with daggers,
With words, tent pegs, mountains.

The sixty years of Jupiter’s solar orbit,
The five periods of twelve years,
The auspicious conjunction of every twelve years
Call us to purification.
All-penetrating and embracing light
And emptiness; within it is vision;
And within the sphere of vision
Is constantly transmuting illusion
Of appearances in the world.
The master pierces a rock with his staff
And clears a path for the willing.
Outward resounds the concentric circles
Of the seed-syllable of the goddess,
Out of emptiness, to be invoked.
The chakras of the earth call you
To explore the energy, the current
And discover in yourself the same.

Approaching for the first time the cave
Of power so long sought, through hardship
And peril, the pilgrim becomes a giant,
Senses heighten; colours are brighter;
Shapes more focused; hearing is keener;
Smell, taste and touch all on fire;
He feels weightless, floating,
Thoughts drift in and out, free
Of attachment; time stops in bliss,
And the signs of the new life
Arise in his path….

They carry the broken corpse
Up the mountainside into the sky;
And at dawn the butchers shear the hair,
Open up the body, eviscerate the organs,
Amputate the limbs, cut up the flesh
Into small pieces and pound the bones
To powder with a rock; then the pieces
Are spread around and the vultures
Are summoned, and fall upon the feast,
And what they leave the dogs will take.