Wondrous to consider
It’s wondrous to consider
I might consciously be God right now
if I didn’t take so much delight in being
my vain, silly scoundrel of a self.
All the evidence is now in
indicating that to reach Paradise
I will have to leave my front porch.
Routinely, I sift through my verifications
calling it prayer, meditation, study and praise.
It’s much safer and easier
than to risk the task of true effacement.
Easier to forsake the Promised Land
for this familiar old rocking chair hovel.
Easier than trekking out
into that lonely, austere, uncomfortable terrain.
Repeatedly, I lament my predicament
and yet time and again – still –
I choose myself over God.
O child, impossibly difficult, Meher Baba said,
to become what you already are.