238. A naked diaphanous figure.

I Will Read for You: The Voice and Writings of Jaiya John

Reading a selection from my book, Freedom: Medicine Words for Your Brave Revolution, which begins, "A naked, diaphanous soul is dancing..." My new book, the short story No Man Came, and all my books are available online at booksellers worldwide. eBooks are exclusively at my website. Thank you for posting your copies on Instagram, tagging #jaiyajohn, encouraging others to purchase, posting readings of your favorite passages, and sharing online book reviews. My whole heart cries Grateful. jaiyajohn.com.
VERSE:
A naked, diaphanous figure is dancing everywhere you look. You can barely bare its beauty, a radiance so impossible that tears spring from your soul spring when you glance at its aura. You fall so in Love you spend your whole life trying to possess this miracle. This nascent light in every corner. You adhere to all the rules passed down to you. You follow all the approved paths, even when it breaks your heart. You achieve all the expected achievements. You acquire all the titles, relationships, and status. Yet the divine candlelight keeps taunting you, dancing closer, then further away. You feel its warmth against your pleading skin, but it draws back and leaves you cold. You spend your life pleasing what humans want from you, losing touch with true pleasure assigned to you by Glory. You become a searcher, a wanderer, a traveling ache. You renounce pleasure and romance, start digging in the hard desert earth for the nakedness of your obsession. Years go by. Decades. You feel you have been cheated. You rebel against all rules. You rebel against your soul. Your gamble is that if you perform anarchy against life, you will finally possess this effervescent creature for yourself. Nothing works. The dancing ecstasy comes into you and out of you in flashes of euphoria and torture. At last, one day, when your yearning has grown exhausted, you collapse into a kind of surrender. You fall into the boiling vat of your own soul water, which has been within you all along. The you of you gets cooked. Old bindings come undone. You are rearranged into particles of light. Your seven senses die into a new sense that makes no sense. You are born into the same body, the same world, but everything now is breeze and movement. The dancing form you always sought is nowhere to be found. But you are dancing. You no longer care about the music or the beat. Your dance is bliss without boundary. Pains come and go. You stay dancing. Your ideas die as soon as they form in you. Great Sky above calls you Friend and joins you dancing. This, dear soul, is freedom.

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