The Library of Love

I was reared to Believe
in a Deity
Who Loved Me,

But Spoke to Me in a
Courtroom Voice:

How do I Judge Thee?
Let Me Count
The Ways.

If You’ve even
Thought
to Transgress,
it’s as if
You Have.

One Day You’ll Die,
and After That
More Judgment.

What If
That’s a Lie?

What If
I’ve been Duped
by Fear,
Fomented by
Another Lie,

That I Am Separate
from The Source
of The Light
That Lit Me?
The Love
That Knit Me?
That Burns In Me,
As Me.

What If
Judgment is a Myth
as Foolhardy as That
Lie of Separation?

What If
I Choose to Smile
at The Fear,
Hug It To Me,
Wipe Its Tears.
Laugh Away That
Lie of Separation.

Send My Transgressions
Invitations to a Life
Beyond Fear,

Where Judgment Blooms
Into Bouquets
of Affection

for The Practice of
Transmuting Transgressions
into Storybooks
for the
Library of Love.

(Photo by Andrej Lisakov; UnSplash)

 

May I Call You Mick?

Michelangelo
said of his
David,

“It’s Simple.
I just removed
Everything
that is Not
David.”

May I call You Mick?

Listen, Mick:

When The Love
That Is
The Creator
Beamed You …
a Fractal of
The Light of
That Love …

to This
Light formed
Place,

You Came
with a Task,

so Full of
Holiness
Refracted into
a Flame
We call
The Soul,

so Full of
Desire
to Express,
but Trammeled,
by Design,
with a
Brain and Body
that can barely
contain You.

Which often Breeds
Distress and Fear.

But Focus, Mick.

It’s just an
Arful Game,

Wherein
You can Find
Delight

in simply
Removing Everything
that is Not
The Soul
that is
You.

(Photo by Gabriel Natussi; UnSplash)

 

CC and Me

I believed
I had an Enemy
Inside.
I called It
The Comfort Complex.

Complex Indeed,
made of
Narcissism,
Laziness,
Resistance to
Work, Effort, Labor,

Always
The Easy Way Out,
On the Path of
Least Resistance,

Comfort at Any Cost.

Rarely Do I
Fight
This Enemy.
Mostly I Surrender.

But then
I Heard
A Wise Man.

He Told Me
I Should
Love My Enemy,

Give Him
a Pet Name,
Pull Him Close
in Warm Embrace,

Ask for His Help.

Now I Call Him
CC, and
Intend to Make Him
My Friend.

I Will Ask Him to
Help Me,
See The Good
in Him,
Become Fond
of Him,
Be Glad He’s a
Part of Me.

Already He’s Begun
To Release His
Resistance.

He Tells Me
He Wants to
Help Me.

Good.

Because I Need
His Help.

(Photo by Mohamed Nohassi; UnSplash)

   The Wise Man referred to in the Poem is Peter Bedard, whose wisdom I heard as part of his Near Death Experience interview at https://youtu.be/QE7U_1mj8VM?si=5gPAoZ4ERWLBtarW. Peter is a Wellness Practitioner, with an extensive education and practice in Consciousness Studies and Hypnotherapy. Peter’s website is at https://www.convergencehealing.com.