Spirituality

What if Man…

What if Man

did not fall

to Earth,

but

flew?

—–

 

What if She

did not fall

damaged

and caterwauling

but landed

in perfection?

—–

 

What if Man

is

Angel

of such courage

and power

that it is one

of

a treasured few

that can leave

the shelter of heaven?

—–

An angel

with

the strength,

the purity

and the

unspeakable

courage

to live;

to experience

the nature of

One.

—–

To be One;

and so

to feel,

and cause,

the pain

of

Not

Being

One.

—–

What if Man

does not fall

miserably

but flies,

to retrieve for

The Beloved Oneness,

the Holy Grail:

a thimble full,

of being

Oneness?

—–

If

we knew

we had taken on

this agony

with such magnificence

would we cease

the whimpering

of

original sinners

flawed in every

thought:

flawed before thought?

 

—–

Would we stand

and

say

"We are here for one reason only:

to live Oneness.

And we do it

with power

and courage

and love".

—–

How could we possibly enfold

the dragon

if we were flawed?

—–

How how could we begin

to experience

Oneness

if our very nature

was "less than";

"excluded from";

sinners in the original?

——–

And if we are

less than

who is lesser than less?

Who is the greater sinner?

How many degrees of exclusion

can we create to insulate ourselves?

—–

If we arrive believing

we are excluded

then we will exclude.

—–

We can only

experience the

Oneness

if we are it

in the first place

—–

And when we return,

we take with us

in triumph

only that:

The experience of

Oneness.

The rest,

The Separation.

does not exist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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What if God…

What if the God we believe in,

or reject,

is not the all powerful

who turns from love

to vengeance,

but is the most delicate

gossamer?

What if God is the

the lightest butterfly?

Not the weight of the universe

but the wisp

that’s needed

to balance the universe

on the breath of her wings?

What if God depends on us

to preserve the space

for that breath?

To protect her

from the turbulence of our

wheeler-dealing prayers?

What if the gossamer

is worn ever finer,

the wisp ever lighter,

when we call upon her

to slaughter our enemies?

What if the power of God

holds

when we are still

and listening

and alert?

So that, in that watchful

stillness,

the world can

come to rest.

What if our sacred duty is

to be God’s haven?

Would we still

drill the hearts

of our enemies,

bomb the cities

of the unbelievers

or clamour to be the chosen?

Or would we stop:

in case the din

toppled the beloved?

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