Open the door
Step right through
All the world is waiting for you.
Time is the same as memory
Hidden there, where none can see …
Pieces of a puzzle, small bits of string,
Odds and ends of things …
Baubles, jewels, the stuff of life
Matter little.
Place your eyes upon the skies
Aloft
Where there you’ll find
Respite from cares and worries, rush and bother
Rest a moment with the Father.
Rest now for I will send
The signs of death
Which most fear
Yet know not that here
Is where they grow to know
That all is one
When day is done.
Count your pennies
Watch them grow
Then melt away like heated snow
Nothing lasts for long
It’s like a song
That’s here …
Only to disappear.
But lo! The soul!
Death touches not the spot inside
Where God abides,
Survives. Strives. Alive.
I remember saying to a friend a long time ago: “Yea sure i am depressed and feel imprisoned by this society’s ways, in a multitude of ways, BUT there is something inside me, in the very core of me, that is fine, …always fine and happy. It’s just the way it is… never changes no matter how much attention i give to that which depresses me. That core is my life. It is life. I’ve never minded being poor, never really chased a buck to get rich either. I know lots of poor folks that i love and some wealthy ones that i love. The wealthy ones often piss me off in ways the poor can’t. That doesn’t mean at all that i can’t or don’t love them all. I am happy to love them all. The core of me knows that much.
He smiled and knowingly said, “Yea, i know exactly what you mean… me too, i have that.”
And we both shone bright in that joy, and laughed in that special memory.