I wanted to find my real Self. You whispered
that I am You. Now I
am content.
Not that my heart believes such a Truth
but I am content to listen to such whisperings from You.
Content to be Your poor excuse for a slave;
sitting at Your feet – near enough to witness
Your purity and beauty; asking for nothing;
hoping one day to become the dust at Your feet.
That dust is worth more than any of its other forms –
gold, silver, diamonds . . . this body of mine.
I can’t make it through the rigors of the Path
but to become dust – perhaps, I could do that.
A taking away rather than an achieving –
perhaps, its possible.
God only knows.
O child of God, nearness to the Lord requires loss upon
loss,
until there is nothing upon which to hang your hat.
(from The Garden of Surrender, 2004)
No comments:
Post a Comment