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UniverseBirth copy

©B. Luceigh, 5/2016

When did my self leave?
Was I asleep somewhere as it happened?

When did my hands reach
to give a caress, not take a receipt,
my arms open in joyful welcome,
not cross before my chest?

When did I start to cry
at the news of starved refugees
as if they were all at my front door,
feel compassion even for the terrorists
as if their blindness opened my eyes?

Where has my resentment gone;
has it joined blame, pride, lust, and anger
in an quiet mass extinction of resistance?

To whom did I surrender
the concept of my separated form,
as awareness arose within me
of universal Connectedness?

There was no public decree for my self to leave,
no drama enacted to be witnessed.
I must have been asleep with life’s memories,
before awakening without their requirement.

My feet walk differently now,
my soles always touching Kindness,
all surface below them the Ground of Being,
every path travelled lighted by Beauty,
always at Home already present.

Whether my small self will return for visits,
I cannot say nor am I concerned.
For I still AM, my true Self becoming exposed,
realizing what left was only a mistaken identity.