Your good graces
Lord, accept me as a gift.
I'm all wrapped up in myself;
the measure of everything
and still the world doesn't fit.
I should stop thinking of myself.
I should stop thinking of You
and how to worm my way
into Your good graces;
abandon efforts to gain
advantage and win the prize;
fall back on my groping, inchoate heart.
Be who I am. What a concept!
Ignorant, vulnerable, mute and motionless,
weathered down to the bone.
O, but spiritual poise like that,
surrender like that,
faith of that measure
come at the heavy price
of all my intrinsic props and illusions -
my presumed mobility, autonomy, merit and clout.
O child of God, Meher said, "Want what I want."
But, o pilgrim . . . the Godman wants for nothing.
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