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Poem

Love alone is real and that’s life’s gist
but imagining we’re distanced from source,
grace that uplifts, we begin to resist,
opting instead to employ use of force.
Mistaken we’re merely this body-mind,
we’re mired in pursuits, that are self-serving,
caught in ego’s inexorable bind,
believing we alone are deserving.
All that that is born, will one day soon die
but even though we see and so know this,
we live out our life as though it’s a lie,
hypnotised by the desire-serpent’s hiss.
Life is a gift, where each of us can choose,
to make love and light, flavour of our muse.

To make love and light, flavour of our muse,
it is clear we need a consciousness shift,
resolve steadfast, offering no excuse,
watchful that we are no longer adrift.
Negating nothing, we look at ourself,
noticing how thought forms rise and subside,
so sweeping clean fear clutter on our shelf,
with throb of conscience, we opt to abide.
Simple is the shift from our head to heart,
which basically means we surrender,
feeling, not thinking, thus God-search we start,
beholding each breath in childlike wonder.
The outer world no longer holds allure;
for all ills in life, love’s the only cure.

For all ills in life, love’s the only cure,
is what we see in the world of shadows,
love alone being that that does endure,
looking beyond lifetimes, as spirit knows.
Once we’re empty, fearless and desireless,
divine magnetism pervades feeble form
and holding steadfast our focus tireless,
our pure heart invokes within, a bliss storm.
Our counsel then oh monk, is to be still,
embracing and releasing joy and pain 
and by doing so, voids within will fill,
healed by touch divine that cleanses soul’s stain.
We forget when we make a to-do list,
love alone is real and that’s life’s gist.

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