Wednesday, October 30, 2013

A New Imperative

Sufficient unto the day, is

The pain I feel thereof.

I breathe and sigh, and send

A silent small beam of golden light,

Unconditionally loving and accepting

To the part of me that feels so wrong, so wronged, so


Divorced from a sliver of thread-like longing,

Another angel, masquerading as hurtful

And telling me to take all my toys and go home.


And what shall we do with this?

The God that I AM, the vastness of THIS BEING, and

The petty, small, hurtful me, and the

Everything in between thronging longing loving me?

What shall we do?

We shall experience this with blessings aforethought

And slow ourselves to the rhythm of the Universe itself, a sacred

Solemn pace

And breathe

And glow




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