I glimpsed my sons as fellow sojourners –
not my sons but souls at least
as old and equal to mine whose karma
my blood and house has taken,
a compassion deeper flowering in me
than paternal love; a timeless empathy;
a much needed shift in perspective.
Not my sons at all, but His lovers,
not those young-bodied men
but hunched, ethereal souls
with their own evolving karma,
their own ageless relationship with Him.
I can’t protect them; never could,
nor guide them along their own inimitable way.
Can’t aid them any more than they can aid me
upon our mutual souls’ journey. We are
and always have been in the hands of God –
His sons, my brothers, sisters, too,
of the one true Father.
O child of God, Meher emphasized the connection –
we are not we but one.