Meditations; a poem

We are a dust given breath, briefly held in form,
matter sustained through the tide of each storm,
a flicker of light, then back to the sea,
where all things commune, made whole, set free.

Yet disparate we stand, so certain, so sure,
that we are apart, we scramble for more,
our minds build walls, weave illusions tight,
convincing the heart it is an independent light.

Listen closely, beyond the hum,
of thoughts that consume,
one
by
one,
beneath the noise, a silent call,
the river of grace that governs us all.

When distortion fields shatter, sanity’s last thread,
we return through the heart to the place the ego dreads,
not separate, not lost, in love, in sorrow,
God is moving through all we know