Come thought,
Dogged and persistent,
Rest awhile,
For you have laboured
And toiled and tried
Yourself weary.
Rest awhile
For there is nothing
You can do,
Nothing you can improve
Or fix or even make right.
The world is as it is
And you are small,
A child in all of this.
Rest awhile
For the thoughts you think
Only momentarily eclipse
The love
That holds you in the world.
Rest awhile
And you will see,
You will feel,
All is well,
All is as it should be.
Though the days
Are heavy with loss
And the winter of grief
Holds us too close,
Love is yet
The deeper principle,
For all are borne
On love’s unknowable meandering,
All are borne upon life’s lifting back,
And though we are all
At some time recalled
Beyond our mind’s reach
And beyond the veil
Of substance and reality,
Love accompanies our passing,
Holding our hands
And whispering
That we are loved
And that those parted
Are not truly torn away
But still connected,
Still with us
In the union
That does not faulted
Or ever end.
When he speaks from Source
His heart is whole in his chest
And fears do not trouble his thoughts.
Even his troubles are untroublesome
For the Source holds all,
Sees all with beautiful clarity.
With time and memory absorbed,
There is but the now to behold,
A now of infinite plenty
Where he is alive,
Alive with innermost energy,
New as a universal birth.
When he speaks from Source
He stands at the expanding edge of the
Universe, singing the song he is,
Being none other than himself,
None but he who sees:
The very wellspring of reality.
There is a scented trail
Waiting upon the breeze,
That, like a dog
You must follow.
For the scent is a smooth ribbon
Of being,
A substance made of love
That calls you by name
And feeds your every need
Until there is only wellbeing.
Kindness flows upon this cord,
Energy to hold your hand
And lead you to effortless life,
A voice breathing away your fears
And calling you to your self,
Your voice,
Calling you homeward bound.
Float
On the upwelling,
The ever pushing pulse
Of love,
For it is yours
As it is you.
Oh, how that intellect
And riddled belief
Tells you
It isn’t so,
Oh, how cold and alone
And desperate
The separate minds feels,
How loathsome life feels.
Yet, still you float
Alive in reality,
The unacknowledged truth
A wedge between you and you,
The truth displaced
By fearful thinking.
Oh, but the truth is love,
The all encompassing feeling
Filling you whole,
A mother to your woe
Holding you close
As the child comforted.
The truth is love:
It will fill you if you but ask.
distilledvoice 