I am love, pure and simple.
Nothing more, nothing less.
I am the real thing.
Try me on for size!
Take me for a ride!
I am as vulnerable as water!
I offer no resistance.
And, yet, Miyamoto Musashi would find himself finally defeated.
Drink me and I will go down tasteless,
Suffusing your sentience,
Surfeiting your thirst,
Satiating a craving you weren’t even aware of.
I leave you feeling easy,
I am as comfy as cotton.
As warm as wool.
As expanding as spandex.
I fit you perfectly.
I swaddle you snug in the cocoon of my universal womb.
In the darkness of this sensory deprivation chamber of sorts,
You can finally see who you could be, you should be.
My amniotic fluid swirls around you,
Supporting your weight,
Stimulating your inner senses,
Evening out the flow of your chi,
Opening your pineal eye to the truth.
All is love.
Love is all.
Freed from the illusion of separate identities, linear thinking, beginnings and endings, absolute rights and wrongs,
You set about to reset your life,
Not to “get it right”
There is no such thing.
This time you are ready to live –
Understanding that this life is a chance to stretch you soul and soar,
You leave behind any doubts, any regrets, any recriminations for past wrongs,
Both your own and others’.
With a fresh slate, and a set of paints, you are ready to begin,
You are ready to feast your eyes on life in its entirety,
And to stand as a witness for those who will follow,
For all will follow,
As surely as day follows night.
Brush in hand, thumb held out for perspective, you will begin to paint the signs,
Like Nazca Lines.
Keys to a map to the treasure.
Ride my current through the canyons,
Leaving behind scratches in the strata,
Pointing the way in pigments for pilgrims to follow.
Until we all meet –
In the Hollow of His Hands.