O My Soul


O my soul, you breathe out 

but forget to breathe in,

speak, but do not listen, spend

more than you earn, mostly on pain,


the entropy of your thoughts

spinning the world from a hollow core

where light escapes, never to come home.

Waking at morning, you turn

to your shadow instead of the sun.

Why won't you, even for an instant,

return to the beginning


where rainbow pinions enfold you,

not God’s wings, but your own.

Unfurl them, though 

they sparkle with tears.

Dry them in the golden morning

of the Self.

Choose merely grace,

and you will discover that grace

has already chosen you.

Gaze through the tiniest violet

and fall into the sky.

Let your drunkenness

be the harmony of the stars.

What feels to the cup like pouring

is stillness for the wine.

You are not a grail any more.
You are a fermented Spirit

bubbling over the rim of your body.

How could there be such a thing

as silence?

The void is a sea of infinitesimal bells.


Press music out of emptiness

by gazing within.

Descend into the chorus of your heart.

A sound of bliss creates the world.



Water color by Marney Ward

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