Saturday, January 15, 2011


The split in self is seen so clear,

And yet recoils in mortal fear

From any touch that seeks to bring,

A healing to the wound within.

Twixt good and bad the players set,

And rise to make their triumph, yet,

A tiny voice keeps up the cry

That truth is found within the I.

So peace and wisdom, love and truth,

Stand on one side, placed well aloof,

And rage and vengeance, basest thought,

Will hold their ground, no matter what.

The I rides Grace and then will leap

The fence to fly upon Deceit

And all the while knows neither can

Hold sure, swift hoof on flimsy ground.

That day will come when each will find

They disappear in new-born mind,

And truth of each is made anew:

The I becomes eternal You.


Post a Comment

<< Home