Sunday, 31 December 2017

I'd like to share some poetry I wrote this morning.

Looking for the answer, I grow weary,
So I stop.
But in stopping the search continues,
and the weariness returns.

Searching for the answer, I put it away in a little box --
Inside a bigger box of no-search.
No more boxes.

Each box, a neat little package for suffering to move with
To find a new home
To be at peace.
Why not invite suffering to come home?

Accept it for what it is -- what it is not.
Suffering is a part of me, it will always come back home.

With the same love suffering draws from to come back,
no matter how far it is rejected,
I invite suffering to sit beside me so we can negotiate some terms:

I am you and you are me,
I allow you to be free,
So we may unite in pure ecstasy.

I love you and I always have.



Submitted December 31, 2017 at 09:28PM by icandoitiwilldoit http://ift.tt/2lrArtp

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