The Mirror High (Mudita)

Lyrics

[Intro]

In the quiet hall near Rajagaha, 483 BCE,
Gautama's words linger like dawn mist.
This straw mat, woven from river reeds in 5th century India,
holds the weight of your joy, my friend.

[Verse 1]
You found that lost wooden bowl,
the one carved from sandalwood by villagers at dawn.
Laughter bubbles up, cool as 18°C morning air,
earthy scent of damp soil mixing with incense smoke.
I sit here on this mat, feeling the mirror high,
your happiness reflecting back, synaptic sparks in my mind.

[Chorus]
Mudita, the shared glow,
like neurons firing in unison, Gautama's boundless love.
Radiate it, unhindered, without enmity,
from this straw mat to the forest paths.
Your triumph, small as winning a game with pebbles,
ignites my heart, a mirror polished by breath.

[Verse 2]
Imagine you, dear one, smiling over lentils and rice gruel,
offered in alms rounds under eastern hills.
The straw fibers press into my skin,
grounding this joy that's not mine alone.
Bhikkhu Bodhi's translation echoes: love across, above, below.
In my brain's quiet network, your delight dopamines surge.

[Bridge]

No tools but the mind, no vehicles but dusty feet.
Yet here, in this bamboo-walled room,
the mirror high captures it all—your laughter, my peace.
Visuddhimagga's path: cultivate this sympathetic fire.

[Verse 3]
Flickering oil lamps light the earthen floor,
time of day just before sunrise, birdsong soft chorus.
I wish you this happiness, unnamed disciple,
like the child in the village finding a hidden fruit.
The mat beneath me, coarse saffron robe nearby,
anchors the feeling, neural pathways alight.

[Chorus]
Mudita, the shared glow,
like neurons firing in unison, Gautama's boundless love.
Radiate it, unhindered, without enmity,
from this straw mat to the forest paths.
Your triumph, small as winning a game with pebbles,
ignites my heart, a mirror polished by breath.

[Outro]

In this mirror high, our joys entwine,
endless as the Pali Canon's verses.
Rest now, on the mat, in sympathetic silence.