I kept asking you
for a teacher
I could touch
and surprisingly
you sent me young
Panchen on a dais.
Looking deeply,
we accepted each other.
He leaned forward,
this tuning fork of life,
and touched my forehead
with his.
His note ringing
from the foundations of the cosmos
took away my mind
and reset my bones' deep humming.
I am a cup for you
who is the true substance of all traditions
and the love of my life.
I am sorry so much of my day
is wasted still.
Ian Trousdell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spirit-i-kept-asking/
