Even your bones
By daily loss, the Way is gained,
the masters say, loss upon loss ...
until at last comes rest. Everything to God belongs ...
when you own nothing,
inside and out -- from your endless, fleeting thoughts
to the mighty, roaring stars, the heart's collapse,
the soul's painful duties -- nothing
for your shoulders to bear, even your bones
belong to Him and the clinging flesh, the fallen sparrow,
the numbered hairs, the firmament and the depths.
The world is won by those who let it go!
Let God snatch it from your hands, heart
and head, strip you of the illusion
of attachment and limitation.
Acquiesce, o lover, the masters say.
Surrounded by God, come out -- hands up and empty,
your heart an open palm, your head
a flowing stream laid at the Master's feet.
O child of God -- but, when you try and try
the world is, then, beyond the winning.