Imagine what it would be like
To accept and believe
That all the good our Father has
Can never be achieved
Through all the striving that we do.
To make ourselves "worthwhile".

Imagine we could hear Her Voice say,
"All mine is yours, my child.
I love you, not for what you do,
Or say, or try to be...
I love you just because you are you
While imagining you are me."

Imagine, if you can this day
God's in you all the while,
Imagining Himself as clay
As Father, Mother, Child.

As the new day dawns
The mist slowly evaporates.
Blending into the morning sun
In an intimate fleeting embrace.
The blossoming flowers dip and pray
Opening to new joy, new life.

So this day opens for me.
I begin anew.
Each breath a new existence
Freshly carved and shaped by
My willingness to share it with You.

As the blossom of my heart
Gently awakens and  turns
Toward the entrancing gleam of
Your radiating presence,
Every goodness awaits me.

I  am new again.
I am healed and refreshed again.
I am united with your persistent love again
I am glorified and redeemed again.
I am Your newborn child.

(For additional poems, see "From The Path - Verses From The Mystic Journey" by clicking Here)

Copyright 2004 by The Conscious Living Foundation, All Rights Reserved

I am here to be me
For better or worse.
An attitude, an insight,
A blessing or curse.

I'm here as you see me,
I walk as you will,
And "as you believe",
I give all, or nil.

No past and no future,
I am just today -
Expecting no quarter,
No "instant replay".

I  am this instant,
The Eternal Now.
There's nothing outside me,
And I give you this vow:
I am What I am and will be What I'll be.
In Me you're forgiven, in Me you are free.

When I give up the helm I know that the time has come for thee to take it.  What there is to do will be instantly done.  Vain is this struggle. 

            Then take away your hands and silently put up with your defeat, my heart, and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still where you are placed. 

            These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind, and trying to light them I forget all else again and again. 

            But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark, spreading my mat on the floor; and whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord, come silently and take they seat here.

The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long. 

I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet. 

It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune. 

The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end. 

My eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them and said “Here art thou!” 

The question and the cry “Oh, where?” melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance “I am!”

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 Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!

Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.

The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light.  Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.

The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion.

Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure.  The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad.

 That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides, thus casting coloured shadows on thy radiance - such is thy Maya.

Thou settest a barrier in Thine own being and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes.  This thy self-separation has taken body in me.

The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloured tears and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sing again, dreams break and form.  In me is thy own defeat of self.

This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures with the brush of the night and the day.  Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves, casting away all barren lines of straightness.

The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky.  With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant, and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me.

Thus it is that thy joy in me is so full.  Thus it is that thou has come down to me.  O thou lord of all heavens, where would be thy love if I were not?

Thou hast taken me as thy partner of all this wealth.  In my heart is the endless play of thy delight.  In my life thy will is ever taking shape.

And for this, thou who art the King of kings hast decked thyself in beauty to captivate my heart.  And for this thy love loses itself in the love of thy lover, and there art thou seen in the perfect union of two.

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Conceived by Sarah Chaplin

Circles by anonymous

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