One moment
I believe
it was yesterday
or maybe only
one fresh moment ago,
God presenced within me,
as
“Thank You.”
This time
I knew
what for, for
This One, you see
has seen a lot,
been kissed by suffering
of many kinds, and colors—
like You have.
And you, and you, and you.
And God has become so much more perfect
because perfection can have degrees, you see:
kindness, even kinder
understanding, even deeper
compassion, more compassionate
love, yet more loving
And sadness?
softer than a teardrop
The moment just before
this brand-new moment
God wasn’t quite as perfect
as It is right now
like You
like Me
like We are
"Thank You" em claire©2022
The Blessing Self
is not unlike
the small bundle
of feathers
and bones, and
tiny eyes that peer into
a world more vast than fathomable;
a life too big to
circumnavigate with only
feathers
and bones.
The Blessing Self
is like a bird,
born with a song
it keeps singing—
even when it can’t fly
for a time,
even when something is broken
for a time,
needs time
to mend, needs
a nest again, and the
safe boughs for it to nestle in...
Presence and Love.
The Blessing Self
has always been
more fragile than
The Higher Self—
wasn’t even built
for Forever
in this place.
Nevertheless,
Grace
has created It
as perfect as an egg,
as perfect as every feather
and tiny bone and beak,
and beating heart.
And The Blessing Self
will keep on singing,
with every body it is given,
a Higher Song.
“The Blessing Self” em claire©2022
The Highest Presence
not coming; not going
is a Light
that doesn't dim.
It began, and beget us;
all we see, all we are:
“Pick a flower on earth,
and you move the farthest star”.
The Highest Presence,
my heart--your heart
is one thought, all thoughts
neither near, nor far;
is a Light watching light;
is a Light watching darkness,
“Pick a Flower on Earth
and you move the farthest Star”.
From where you look,
It too, will be looking,
yet when you can’t see It,
It still can be seen.
It offers This Truth:
I AM is what You Are…
"Pick a flower on Earth,
and you move the farthest Star".
“A Truth” em claire ©2022
Based on a quote by Paul Dirac, Nobel Prize physicist, 1933
I don’t know if my god
is the same as your god:
Is it made of Love?
Does it want for you
what you want for you?
Does it come to you
with hands opened,
asking for nothing,
but ready
for anything?
Does it whisper to you
of Light and of Stillness,
and point you toward
all of the paths
that will take you there?
Does it remind you
of your Seeing?
Does it remind you
of your Knowing?
Does it remind you
of the gentlest lover
ever you’ve dreamed,
caressing a weariness
from your heart?
Is it ever late?
Is it ever gone?
Is it made of Love?
"Is It Made of Love?" em claire©2018
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