We Have Always Known

You think you'll live forever
Let death pass over, so it seems
The way you push yourself
Toward "Meaning"
And Keep fording endless streams
Of worry, consternation:
"Can 'True Being' e're be known?"
You charge headstrong on your pathway
Searching endlessly for Home.

But all along
There is this log
Upon
Whose strength
You could repose.
Ospreys hover,
And then plummet;
Sand keeps shifting
Through your toes.
Water whisked, white-capped and fluid,
Laps longing at your feet
You could just lie back
And feel it
You could know yourself complete.

You'd need
No faithful absolution
No understanding passing all,
No great mystery unfolding
To discern True Nature's call.
It's an ever-present cycle
(Not obscured by some dark wall):
We will rupture and return
We have always been The Fall.



so I know this is a day early, but in case I can't get back to this computer, and because I'm traveling tomorrow...I'm posting Sunday's post right now....with much appreciation for the opportunity to practice letting go...M.