Always for me
there has been a sense of:
What more must I bear?
What more must I undergo?
A sense of trust poised to break,
ready to guard itself
when joy has been perceived
to be stolen.
.
.
.
Lately I have been more easy
to laugh,
easy to be with myself,
easy to be in a state of play.
I often talk to myself
amidst the mundanity of life,
and render such quips
that set me to gales
of my own laughter.
This doesn't dispute
the sad times,
the angry times,
the times of challenge.
Yet Life,
in all her Gloriousness,
is one huge
mess.
And we can be sad,
and we can rage,
and we can despair.
But we can also love Her
for all that She is.
And we can Be
We can taste
the nectar
that is our fruit.
I harvest
in each moment,
the sweet bitterness
Loving it,
being with it,
tasting it,
trusting it,
never parting from it.
These are the ways
in which
I open to
the loving Heart
of All Being
of All That Is.
This is the entrance
Into the Divine Heart.
This is the joy of it.