Not one of us
Upon the earth
Is anything less
Than the whole sun
Shining in being,
Illuminated in the endless wealth
Emerging from the formless realm,
The nothing and the nameless,
Our infinite self
Ever at our finger tips,
Infinitely Infinite and infinitely free.
–
It is only our crowded thoughts,
Straight-jacketing us rigid.
Gripping us to an idea
Of a drought-ridden self,
Stiff within our skin
And so hopelessly lonely,
That thinks us
Thought-severed from the Source,
And made bleak as a separate entity.
–
And yet, those thoughts separating
Are but tenacious thoughts,
Combined, conjoined, layered,
Believed, stiffened, judged
And felt solid enough to be real,
Each one hiding us from the truth:
–
That universal love
Is the absolute fundament of our nature:
The life force propelling,
Filling us up,
Upholding the fleeting entities
We call our selves,
Buoying us
Even when we deny we out buoyed.
–
Not one of us
Is anything less
Than the soul
That is all,
The one,
The only one,
The love emanating from Source
Becoming something,
Ever unfolding as the form-ful manifest.
distilledvoice 