4 Ecstatic Love

Pure existence godbeing in my own awake space,
Self-existent traveler through the quantum cosmos,
Stirred awake as I dream, I know  you are real!
Please carry me past death with ecstatic love!

My heart has burst open! Don’t hold me back!
Fire of Life! Fill me with unbounded desire!
Fire of Life! Free me from ridicule and laughter!
Fire of Life! Consume me! I am your lover!

Ecstasy is freedom! Ecstasy is freedom!

Hidden Dragon! Burn me to the bone!
I am madness itself! Your only mistress!
Have me now all-yielding on the wasteland of oblivion!
My body is wide open! I abjure all peace!

Living Love! Living Love! Fire of Life!
Living Love! Living Love! Fire of Life!
Living Love! Living Love! Fire of Life!


Do you want peace or love? And is love what you think it is? Did you create children with love and teach them your way of life that they might pass on to their kids the virtues that you saw mature in them? And now, as you look at how the youth of the world revel in things that are so deceiving, do you see how small your contributions has been? Do you see that what you had to give up to make that little bit work and how, as a result, 99.99% of the desire living inside you never got expressed?

 And wasn’t your sex life just a shadow of your being, and didn’t sex end up being the only door that was even partially open for you, the one you came back to when other offers from the world ended up in disappointment? Isn’t all this true? And when you really dig down deep into the thing, isn’t it true that all you have really wanted is to strip down to the most naked that you can be and stand up to the universe and say, “Here I am! See me! Take me!”—not caring about your best lover, your spouse, children, parents, friends, gurus or ghosts from the past—that this is all you have ever wanted—sex with God—the ecstasy of loving until everything not love burns away, taking you with it, putting yourself deep inside your own sex to find the core of your being burning for attention, knowing finally that it is only you who exists, the one fire that becomes two and the infinite many, then wanting the two again so that the universe can have sex with itself and explore the infinite delusions of love that arise from two, so that you can come again and again in orgasmic realizations that you would not surrender for a farthing less than the infinitude of sucking God’s tongue exploding deep inside your throat as you devour yourself with the raw passion of your own existence? Is it peace you really want, my love? Do you really think that will do?

Advanced Commentary
In this prayer the cosmic fire is in the process of annihilating the voice, which cries out in ecstasy as it surrenders itself into the flames. The demands of the voice are the last vestige of its individualized existence before it is destroyed. The finality of this experience is the pure desire for it.

The core of its plea is that it not have to experience a mortal death, which is the agonizing disintegration of the body from misuse, dysfunction or simple decay. It would rather burn up in the fires of pure existence crying out its ecstasy as its compensation for having to live in the dark cave of mortal life. Ecstasy is the final bursting of confining forms on the way to annihilation: “Fill me with unbounded desire!”  It feels the last veils of its mortal pain being burned away: “Free me from ridicule and laughter!” The end is near when it becomes pure exultation: “Ecstasy is freedom! Ecstasy is freedom!”

As the voice moves through its increasingly frenetic pleas, it takes on a sexual identity. The formless fire of pure existence is the male essence penetrating the female essence in the last throes of its disintegration, opening itself to the irresistible madness that will destroy it. There is nothing more desirable, nothing more fulfilling, nothing more absolute for the voice than to be consumed by the very madness which temporarily constricted itself into mortal life. In the ecstasy of its destruction, just on the edge of absolute annihilation, seeking oblivion with the last thread of its existence, the voice cries out to the Dragon: “I am madness itself! Your only mistress!” For this voice, peace is insanity. The seed of this realization is the fire of life itself.