poetry

Harvest of Gems

The Indians finally surrendered. I got the visa. Summer waited in the lobby of the embassy as I haggled with the Indians for one last hour. The protectors of the inner mandala had opened the doors at last. I was going to India! Summer and I took a train to Benesov from the main station, Hlavni Nadrazi. We walked a mile through the forest to get to Konopiste. It was early autumn and a riot of oranges and yellows greeted us. The trees were shedding their coats. It was an awesome sight and a spectacular day for PUJA. There was power in the air, there was beauty, and there was joy. Summer and I were free at last. It was time to explore a little selfless love; while living in a very stressed out world.

There really was no time to lose. Summer was dressed in her usual green overcoat. She wore green pants and was booted and scarved. Summer looked like the queen of the forest. Her every movement bore an unqualified and instant mark of gracefulness. Summer's heart began to race. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Oh, don't you know?" she impatiently retorted. "I have a heart problem. The muscles of my rib block my heart. I have to snap my ribs twice a day to stay alive. The doctors can't help me."

Konopiste castle had some strange karma. It had been the happy hunting ground of the guy who got blown away at Sarajevo. The guy whose death touched off World War I. Hundreds of animal heads were on display inside the castle. We arrived late and couldn't get in because of the haggling with the Indians. We didn't mind though, it was a great day for pictures. It really was. WE watched a lone peacock strut by. I was exhausted. I lay my head on Summer's lap and she stroked my sweaty hair. We were almost saying good-bye in case the day ended in disaster. It didn't. Summer passed with flying colors. Without permission from my teacher, I initiated her into the secret breath. I asked the guides for protection and they delivered. The most dangerous of the choking sludge clogging Summer's subtle centers was released and transformed. After the surgery, we lay on a blanket in the rapidly darkening forest. "You're very special, my dear," Summer cooed. "You give me such immense joy." I was falling asleep from fatigue.

Day Thirteen:
The energy has drastically shifted with Konopiste. It was the turning point for Summer and I. We were now spiritual lovers. Hints of marriage floated subtly in the air. "I believe so!" Summer bleated to something I had said in the train on the way back. I no longer remembered my end of the conversation, but Summer's bleat was unforgettable. Her cold calculating blue eyes stared out into space; and glittered like lost jewels in the pale light of the train compartment. Summer's angel ivory skin seemed to radiate. The promise of life was hers for the asking. She had plans. I could feel them bubbling up in her head. Summer's kisses were tender. She hated conflict and enjoyed our easy give and take.
It was a new day. Summer slept in and I took off with her boyfriend to look for a luggage rack. None could be found in all of Prague. So I bought a baby carriage. I ate a late lunch with Summer's boyfriend, the odd-man out throughout the whole drama, and learned that he had a completely FUCKED-UP childhood. He didn't trust life; and he had "Heart disease." His emotional armor was so thick that Summer's spell couldn't weave its way into him. All his energy was spent resisting her. Surrender was an alien concept to this angry survivor. This lower-chakra lover. I hated him. His higher centers were completely blocked. This asshole lived off all kinds of paranoid fantasies. He munched off Summer like a puppy chewing on a stale biscuit. He was convinced I was planning to gouge his eyes out while he was sleeping. "Yes, yes, yes," I said, paying no attention to him. I was worried about Summer. I was leaving her and I knew this would be hard on her, on me. How could we dampen the pain of attachment? The clatter of plates on the table banged me to distraction.

The Czech waitress smiled at me. She had a gold tooth. I returned to the apartment and Summer ordered her boyfriend to leave. It was time to do one last puja.

I covered Summer with a blanket and told her to breathe gently. I stroked her perfumed hair and played a classical Indian raga tape. Summer burst into tears. "It's alright," she said. "I was in India long ago and it was all taken away from me. I'm letting go now." We honored Mahakala with wine and thanked him for his assistance. Summer was now coming back to her Tantric roots. She blew the secret breath into me for the first time. We turned on the karmic TV and watched our former marriages in Germany and Poland in living color. The secret breath was now opening up our subtle memory banks. As well as unplugging our clogged and swollen subtle channels. Summer took off her green sweater and I saw that she wore a black leotard under her jeans. I took off my shirt. It was getting hot and steamy in the room. Summer got into the Yabyum position with me. It was all coming back furiously to her. Summer was in her old element. We were joining our subtle circuits and circulating our energies. Our two minds were fusing into a single thought and creating a powerful force. A force that needed careful harnessing. Summer affectionately kissed my hand and looked into my eyes. Our auric egg was pulsing and throbbing with new vibrations. Summer was excited. Our hearts were melting and expanding like a slow fugue. The apartment had turned into a temple. All our words were now prayers. Summer's terribly abused womb was now being reconsecrated. She felt like a goddess. Her menstrual flow was a holy river. The tender nipples of her still young and growing breasts nourished the world. This was the TANTRIC VISION. A vision forgotten by the west. Summer was now free and she was a sacred consort. Could anyone possibly understand this? I sucked Summer's finger and pointed it towards a map. I told her to close her eyes and follow the energies. We traced our karma throughout the world on my atlas. We dived into India. We traveled to Jordan. We relaxed in Poland. Summer pursed her lips in satisfaction. We kissed deeply in a muted celebration. Summer would not, could not stop now. Her long and velvet arms clutched me tightly. Summer enjoyed and worshipped physical pressure. I noticed that her tall and lanky legs had coiled around my waist and had been securely locked by her claw-like bare feet. Summer would not be denied. "I'm double-jointed you know," she declared with confidence. "I can twist
into all kinds of things." Summer was triumphant. Her cat, Ophelia, was cowering in one of the corners of the room. I could see cat food strewn all over the carpet.

Day Fourteen:
Summer was excited as she got dressed for our final day together. I had bought a train ticket to Krakow and was leaving late in the evening. We took off for the Hrad again. Summer had insisted on this. She radiated and her happiness was addictive. Summer knew what she wanted now. She wanted me, and only me, and promised to quit smoking. We sat on some steps leading up to the Hrad and gently embraced. I gave Summer a mala, a kind of Tibetan rosary. "This will be our signaling device. Do the mantra every day for ten rounds." Summer was ecstatic. "Oh, such joy!" I also gave Summer a picture of the Tibetan heavy Summer had taken a liking to, the one at the front of my altar. Indeed, he had been watching over us all along. Summer was wearing earrings in honor of our last day. She also wore brown designer slacks with a matching tan vest. Her shirt underneath was orange and her bare white shoulders were slightly exposed. I was going out in style with an actress. Summer clutched her black purse as I took some last photos of her next to the Valtava river. She was a natural poser. It was an ingrained instinct Summer had cultivated somewhere.

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