Sure, this speck of infinite life,
a glimmer of an ember here then gone,
knowing its part of the one pure perfect being,
from this rotation of human dreams.
And each life a facet, a consciousness of limit,
each adding to progression, a soul’s dimension,
and for all the pain and struggle of misdirection,
each facet clearer, each life gleaning
to know better the whole.
And how we judge, ridicule lives,
when they on paths fated, move onward,
to understand the pieces of their own puzzle,
their own ineptitude and destined troubles,
in realisation of their true being.
Life is a spiritual journey,
circumstance just a symptom of the gleaning,
the facets struggle to be whole in dreaming,
the perfect assimilation of truth
the perfect relenting of self, to discover the essence.
Self is the echo of ego,
its demands and wants a reflection of travail,
the journey that will peal away the shell,
the human propensity that drowns the spiritual
and follows only the lowly aspirations of the physical.
Spirit is the essence, that facet of perfection,
that glimmer of our journey’s end,
where light basks in its own fulfilment
having realised potential
and in the embrace of beauty resides.
Tony DeLorger © 2016