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.