What It Is Poem by Alma Bella Solis

I am what I was and will be,
Happiness ignored hath set past its time,
Emptiness recovered in the caves of the soul,
Shall climb the highest peak
Of the field of reality.

Conscience available to the man in search,
The journey offers a perfection touch,
Appearing not an abstraction impossible,
Defects assailed shall aid man in caution.

The suchness of things is the nothingness of being,
Distinctively caused to the man of peace,
Not knowing at all where it is,
Whence lies the essence of eternity.

I am man, not God;
By pure thought, pure reason it exists,
In absence of creation is its bedrock,
No time, no relativity it resides,
Unoccupant of things created it ultimates,
That wallows me in His pure light,
And see beginninglessness of existence.

Assuredly it is begun in man,
The habit of the soul is faith,
It looks at heaven with nothing in between,
And dispenseth all dichotomy present,
To the man sealeth with himself.

The light of truth is one's palm,
Asleep before man that slips,
Whence man speaks no language,
The harmony of wisdom cometh near.