The secret richness

The secret richness                                                                                           
 
It’s an errant quest, o seeker, the desire for Knowledge. 
The peace of God, wrote Paul, surpasses all understanding.
 
I’ve fumbled around on this stage for the last 40 years 
trying to pull a rabbit out of an empty hat.
 
Now I want to become (another desire)
a single mote, o Lord, of the dust
 
collecting on the bottles in Your cellar.
Dust doesn’t want; doesn’t understand.
 
Divested of any strength or authority,
neither accedes nor rejects, resists nor accepts,
 
only to discover in its utter desiccation the secret richness
and the promised treasure of its true nature.
 
Whether into the wilderness, o child, or up to
the threshold of the Darbar, dust goes where it is bidden.