Take me off the shelf and dust off the abandon.
Set me on the ground and watch me writhe…
When the wreck of others’ feelings,
judgements, dealings melts away
and I’m left to play in this broad, deep,
wonder-field of abandon,
the soul sings and
no one is guilty,
no one is wrong,
no one is anything but
what was intended all along
and even if it all blows up in the end,
this field and all that happened
is more real
than any sham posing the “ultimate truth” of life.
See, there’s no pose.
We simply are.
And beyond all the disfigurations of being,
we. are. love.