Ego slumbers when we are still ~
Doing nothing, go for the kill |
Silence please, aboard God’s bliss bus ~
Hark! Heart toroidal welcomes us |
Taking this breath to be our last ~
Are we yet buoyant or aghast? |
It’s God’s gift if we can choose ~
Melody of our heart’s muse |
It is what it is, is it not ~
Turbid thought forms, ego begot |
Irked by our mind, what do we do ~
Taming desires, soul's light shines through |
Illusions, sensory prison ~
Time's now for soul to be risen |
As this dream unfolds, we ask who are we ~
In silence we see, become and so be |
Imagining life, we create ~
Tempests wild or love touch sedate |
Immanent is the throb of life ~
Take refuge therein, be bliss rife |
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