Incomparable perfection
Since my Beloved told me I am an eternal being,
much of the old urgency has fallen away.
Since I stopped believing in myself,
ceased rattling my karmic chains,
played my hunch on the law of must,
time matters little to me now.
Wherever it is I’m bound, God will get around to it,
my arrival as precisely orchestrated as the flight of stars.
How could it be otherwise under His exacting command?
If I’ve misjudged my position there will be
an abundance of time to correct the error.
What’s a few more centuries plastered on
to the end of my eternity? Or an additional
allotment of comparative binding and suffering
before my fated release into the infinite sea of bliss?
Time is naught when the mind is fixed on the now,
more and more serving the Master every moment
in the lover’s body as He once was served in His own.
O child of God, your every thought and occurrence
is an integral element in the incomparable perfection of God.
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