A Divine Soliloquy

When I opened my eyes, I immediately felt sad, for I realized that this was not the world I had pledged my heart to. Who were these imposters? Where did the irreverence come from? Have I been blessed or cursed?

As time went on, I watched as the seeds of Love within me that You planted, my Beloved, began to grow into a forest of courage, strength and fidelity...

To be blinded by fortune is indeed a curse. For it veils the Infinite Fountain of the kind of Fortune that has no opposite, and hidden deep and yet not so deep within this miasmic mesmerism, the glimmerings of You, of Me, dancing together to the Great Waltz of Ages past, present and future - all One, and all kissed with a divine fragrance of humility and majesty - simultaneously.

 

How can I See? How can I Be? The answer of course, contained within the question, loosing its formidable, unstoppable flow of a wisdom within the Unknowing.

I must See, I must Be, that which precedes, and is, my footsteps - the road to nowhere, that asks only that it be traveled, the Jewels of Perfection that ask only that they be Held.

 

So let the snake bite and reveal the comfort that eiderdown can never provide. For tho’ it seems to steal our equanimity, our peace, we can choose to Know the Source and Substance of this great Love that acts in accordance with the law of Allowance. I will not hide from something that is simply a masquerade. Every tear summons another and every break will be mended, beneath our watchful Eye, the I that is Us.

I am living behind the time that is stopped, by the thought that is stilled, and I am dying within the flame that burns and turns to ash, my innocence.

 

Look closely at the creature, and you’ll see the face of an angel asking to be recognized.

Dare we?

Only our humility can substitute the true for the false. My Kingdom is not of this world.

And isn’t it incumbent upon our Purity to not lay nestled in a burrow of contentment, but to favor the frigid and the torrid as equally impotent?

 

The Absolute says there is no battlefield, no sick, no lame, no dying…

Yet isn’t it that, to Live we must die, to Be the Christ, we must be crucified, to Be One, we must gather up the fragments? This is how it is in the Allness of God, for we can only have It, if we are first willing to lose it.

We must go deep, well beneath our understanding, and in spite of our feeling.

 

Then what is this resident refrain of this impossible scene that calls and invites me to sharpen my focus?

A blessing? A curse?     

 

A command.