Tag Archive | unseen

You Are Choosing

Forward Momentum

Have I not chosen wisely by starting my day
Cursing some person out who I don’t even know?
Sometimes I can’t catch myself. I end up doing
Things that I’d rather not do. If I’m pursuing
Some righteous indignation, how far can I go
Before my sense of selfhood begins to decay?

I have got to choose better if I am to be
In alignment with my true self. I can become
Lazy before I’ve had breakfast. If I can stay
In high spirits at the very start of the day,
Then I’ll have accomplished something really awesome.
Maintenance of my vibration is up to me.

With each choice I make I’m creating momentum.
When I choose something, then I choose the opposite,
I get nowhere. I need to stay focused on what
My desire is, otherwise, I’m stuck in a rut
I achieve nothing when my energy is split.
There is some resistance for me to overcome.

Energy that creates worlds is available
To me all the time. It courses through me always.
How much am I allowing it to work for me?
If I keep reaching higher, in time I will be
Indestructible. Being happy always pays.
All I need do is keep my vibration stable.

Pain

Concentrated Misery

Pain is the braking of the shell that encloses
My understanding. Just as the stone of the fruit
Must break open so that its heart stands in the sun,
I must know pain. Can this be true for everyone?
How can the depth of my sorrow feel so acute?
Agony is the truth that my heart exposes.

Yet, if I knew not my pain, could I know wonder
In my life of the daily miracles that bring
Me much joy? And would I accept the seasons of
My heart, even as I’ve accepted those I love?
Through the winters of my grief, my awakening
With serenity shall not be cast asunder.

Much of my pain is self-chosen. The physician
Within me prepares a bitter potion to heal
My sickness. I drink this remedy in silence
And tranquility. The healer’s grip is immense,
But it’s guided by what the unseen can’t reveal
To the healer or my self-imposed condition.

The hand is hard and heavy. The cup that is brought
To my lips, though it burns, has been fashioned of the
Clay which the Potter has moistened with sacred tears.
Can there soon be an ending to what now appears
To be hopeless? It depends a lot upon me.
I accept the lesson that my living has taught.