Not that I actually know
How to surf,
But I’ve been out in the waves,
Enough to know,
Not in my head,
But in my body,
What it feels like
To have a wave crashing down on you.
What it is to see
The incoming wall of water,
How it takes up the whole horizon,
That it too shall pass.
The peak is a temporary state.
Oh how I’ve tried to hold onto it!
As I feel ecstatic somatic chills
Of a thundering peak truth wave,
By scribbling my visions,
Recording my sensations,
Trying to capture
What is a moving wall of water,
Uncaptureable.
By definition.
And with that comes the knowledge
That the bottom,
The flat,
The gray,
The boring,
Depression,
Is also temporary.
Feelings, some science says,
Comes in waves of at most ninety seconds.
You mean that joy,
That bliss,
Those vistas I get
From the peak experience,
There’s no way to extend them?
Maybe I should actually get back out there
And learn to surf,
As a yoga,
To then know how to surf
The waves of my inner world,
And propel myself forward through their power.
If I can’t capture the peak,
Maybe I can ride it.
Beyond Mountains, More Mountains 