A Poem on the Paradoxical Agony and Bliss of Our Essential Nature


The Agony of My True Nature


A rumbling pain of fearful hopelessness,

lies like a knitting ball in my belly,

ringing with the unbearable sound of a dark past.


Unravel it carefully I would like to,

perhaps with the helpful hand of my therapist,

in the safe grasp of spoken words.


But the clash of insight into my true nature,

the breath of wisdom,

and the thunder of seeing,

seeing,

seeing,

seeing.


So empty is the fullness of my being with which

I know my pain,

that even an infinite waterless well is not empty

compared to me.


So irresistable am I to myself,

but - for some reason the ball of pain still feels safer

than to fall into the well of my overflowing being.


But fall I must,

fall into the agony,

of my true nature.


Into the agony of deathless Love.


Into the fullest and emptiest embrace

of an almighty and all-vulnerable One,

who sits calmly and happily


at the Centre of my being,


as the Mind of my mind,

as the Heart of my heart,

as the Self of my self.



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