The abiding Reality in its natural flow
Exists in seven ways;
It is held to be spontaneously present in view of its being varied;
Indeterminate in its being alive with movement;
Determinate via its unchanging nature;
Transformable into anything with the dynamism of its presencing;
Describable as anything since it gives rise to everything;
Originally pure since it is free of straying and distortion;
And variegated with its diverse modes of manifestation.
Since the Great Perfection can appear in any way,
There are a great number of diverse assertions about it
Drawn from the specific particulars of such descriptions;
Yet within the view turned towards its abiding natural flow
It is revealed as neither this one nor two.
The ground which exists in a primeval, natural flow
Has no existence outside of its own oneness,
Yet it appears in seven distinct ways
When conceptually delineated
Under the bias of our distorted perception.
Beyond levels, partializing restrictions, and segmentation,
It is devoid of existence, non-existence or something that can be seen;
It is not within the scope of linguistic or logical analyses,
Nor is it something single, dual, or even an itemizable object at all.
Originally pure reality devoid of discursive elaboration,
Is the Ground-nucleus, thoroughly pure in its own essence.
Being devoid of words and letters,
It cannot be delineated with verbal expression;
Being devoid of all conventional reifications and terminology,
Conceptuality with its subject-object dualism does not apply.
When the core of such absence
Is verbally delineated in a provisional way,
Its essence is original purity
And its nature is spontaneous presence.
I have known thus through the merits earned willfully
Tranquil and subtle, the tool is the breath.
Through the successive periods of a day
The energy winds are reckoned to be
Twenty one thousand and six hundred in number,
And thus complete in a single day.
In every sixty moving winds
There is one that is subtle which is real
In double that interval there is one coarse
And make it triple to get one gross.
Here is a grand of six hundred distorted winds
In three divisions of subtle, coarse and gross;
These are all Karma is about!
In one third of that interval there is one balanced wind;
To put it all together,
Every twenty breaths there is a single moment
Where shines the reality's sameness.
With the identity of being impelled, vibrated,
Pulsated, lightened, and shaken forth
Through the windy channels of its engendering
The psychic energy of insight revolves in the luminous mandala
As utterly vibrant quintessences of cognitive energy
Characterized as scattering fire-sparks.
This clarity of insight lights up the interior of the crystal tube
And there is bliss, unceasing and empty.
Breath is Worship!