Sometimes while I am chanting

Sometimes while I am chanting
the Hebrew words become liquid
as warm rain and I slip through
them as if they were water parting
to let me down to a clear place.

Sometimes when I am praying
the words stop and the darkness
rises like water in a basin
and I come into silence
rich as the heart of a rose.

Sometimes when I meditate
light swells along my limbs
and opens sweet as apple
blossoms from the hard wood
of my knobbly spine. 

Light slides behind my eyes
light rises in my throat
light pulses in my chest.
There is no I   only you   only
light burning and unburnt.