Feel heavy these
days, though I’m skin and bones,
trudging the path
I once raced down.
Not much I care
to see with these dimming eyes,
while nearer to
death I seem to or pretend to
make out more
distinctly Baba’s ineffable silence.
Inured now to a
mystery that no longer seems a barrier,
merely a
depthless realm offering no sure footing.
Innumerable ages
I’ve been wandering,
seeking the door
to my own heart
while God,
motionless in His infinity,
needless in His
oneness, sated in His omniscience,
heartless in His
incorporeality is posted forever
on both sides of
a door that does not exist.
I wonder what
goes on here.
Where there is a
search there is a presumed deficiency.
These are just
words I write in my ignorance and need.
Something to pass
the time –
like reading a
dated magazine in a motel lobby.
O child of God,
don’t lose heart.
You’re not alone
in your quest to find the Father.
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