His old soul

He preached we should all be extroverts

It broke my soul

Do you not think he has tried changing faces to thrive in our hapless society.

That being which was not his nearly led him to the asylum.

He can’t help but dig at the core to liberate his soul.

He can’t help but bow at the feet in silence and share with the divine his banquet.

Decades have made him stand affirmed and assured that he has been purposefully made, uniquely sculpted to stand in his truth and proclaim the Truth.

In meekness and majesty scream when needs be and tamely shut it when needs be.

Life his biggest teacher has taught him to be still and know.

He has taught his offsprings the abundance of the Love that knows no wrong.

I stare at him and see my being.

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Try to understand

You think you know,

Because I am human, you are human

We share the human experience

But the thing is we are different

From being me I can tap into the whole experience of being a human

I see the homeless, the glass eye. A soul filled with the unthinkable. A temple damaged beyond measure and I understand. A baby, confusion, but still human and I understand.

I am privileged, I am loved,

But from the historicity, it hits me like a wave.

I see the slave, the refugee and I understand.

I get it, I am frustrated

I can never sail through

I understand and I accept it,

Although I am frustrated

You are human but you will never understand,

Just try to but understand.

The Cross

tree of ther knowlegde of good and evil

I was the first of my kind, called into being by Eternity.
Uniquely made to know all that can be known if they dared to know. The evil and suffering alike. I am good.
My luscious succulent fruits always beckoning to be tasted.
There was another creature which took a special liking to my being, slithering routinely on my stem and resting on my fruits. It’s darkness seeping into my roots.
They fell for the luscious succulence. The dream of knowing all that is in my being. A bite that led to their fall and the fall of all. My branches cried out that day one of the luscious succulence was plucked off. It knew. The whole of creation knew.

The workers chopped the parts they needed out of my stem. My greatness and longevity crumbling to the ground.
They carved and shaped a cross out of me.
4 of the soldiers carried me and placed me by many others.
A man was led in with a purple robe drenched in blood. They wove a crown out of thorns and crushed it into his head.
They placed me on his shoulder, my weight grinding into his flesh. He walked with the little strength he had carrying me with no complaints.
He fell, my weight pressed on his bones and adding to the torment which had led a trail of blood as he walked. With each fall he rose not leaving me on the ground.
A man greatly loved and hated, his existence forever causing a seen and unseen schism in creation. My redemption guaranteed as he never forsook me, carrying my grandeur despite many lashes to the mountain. I felt the human tremor and I felt the divine grace that surpasses all knowing.
He was nailed into my being and we became one.
Salvation was brought.
A tree which led to the Fall finally redeemed to save.

Prideful

Why do you think you alone are God’s gift to creation?

Do you expect us all to bow and marvel in your greatness?

When all we see is your decaying soul.

Out of the respect of humanity they are polite

Not because of humiliation or littleness.

Out of respect for the Unity and Beauty who made.

But it shall pass.

We shall pass.

You too shall pass.

You will fall.

You who looks down on all who are different.

It is not admiration when they look

It is pity and a genuine respect for the human race.

And above all the knowledge of One who started it all and will end it all.

To be

Why do you look with so much anger?
What are you trying to prove?
What did I do?
What did my essence do?
What did my nature do?
You took me in at a glance and regurgitated.
I am told it’s because of the quirkiness which desires not to conform nor confuse.
But to just be in this universe of abursdity.
To thrive and love and soak in beauty.
To dwell at it’s well.
You judged what you know not.
I judged what I knew not.
I strived to be at peace but your essence pushed me away without the parting of your lips.
Why do we do this?
I strive to be at peace with this absurdity.
Not to be of it but while in it to be at peace.
What are we trying to prove?

What is your nation trying to prove?
Why is it much difficult to be than not to be?
When hypothetically or theoretically it would be just easier to be.
How can you be?
We tell everyone in this absurdity to be.
It is the best advise given.
Discovering and unfolding our being is a whole different dimension of grace.
We can’t be without grace.
Not in this absurdity
To be is beautiful.
Those who are, are beautiful.
They are liberated with a sense of deep joy.
They have it all.
They are at peace with it all.

My deep well

When it is all said

And the other, which words can not express seeks to divulge

With no sense of how to escape,

We drown.

Over-consume and drown.

The road easily taken

The wide path.

We drown, it is easy

It is a constant battle.

The cure we know

To unwrap it is unknown.

We seem to not know enough to keep it at bay.

Take 3 steps forward take 4 back

Then 2 forward then 1 back

At least there is a depth,

The movement has created a deep well.

You decide what to fill it with.

The You is still

Judge wisely

Seek to still the well

While constantly striving to keep it full.

How deep and wide

I know not, all I know is it is very deep.

Cry and laugh.

O love, what is more beautiful

What I need human you can not give.

The Whom is, shall fill it if it pleases.

All I know is I am loved and I love greatly.

Love that’s all I need.

The righteous

They are the righteous ones.

They lead it all, coercing the poor in spirit to take part.

They are ready to condemn,

Ready to make you feel small and ashamed because you don’t fit the ball.

They are always on time,

Not a second late.

When you fall,

O when you fall on the way to one of their many events,

They will pass you by because they need to get there to make sure the flowers have arrived.

They are the righteous ones.

They are strong and confident.

They keep the institution going.

They are blessed with that special kind of grace.

They are blessed with all the finery.

They scream royalty.

They are the righteous ones.

They mean well but the job needs to be done, you say.

Are we not the job?

My Journey Of Life.