The truth of illusion
Moths circle the lamp, hover
and hurtle, attracted to the flame
but, also driven from the midst
of their dark surroundings.
You reach God
when you come to the end of yourself.
You get wise. It’s the truth of illusion
that shatters, that jades;
the truth of illusion that bores, sates,
You rush toward God when God
outshines His surroundings.
When the dark has gobbled you up –
bones and blood.
You rush and flail
and hurl yourself toward the light
when you see there’s nothing
in the darkness worth hovering near.
O child of God, turn from illusion
toward the way, the truth, the light.