Letting Go

I am a rolling rumbling thunder cloud,

For eons gathering droplets of fear, pain and regret,

Cumulating towering beads of fleeting joy or despair,

The child unborn, love affair abated, sense of purpose lost.

Source: Minerva Studios

This dark cumulus mass, heavy with gloom and anger,

Deadened by the flat inevitability of outer experiences,

Dampens all I think, say and do,

Yet ignites inside an intense yearning for truth.

Lightning strikes; a bolt of Love from deep within,

Illuminating misplaced loyalties within each globule,

Worn out concepts of what and how life should be.

And in this revelation lies the beauty of each and every drop.

A magnificent storm unfolds. Flashes of lightning

Shine truth on the darkness. Grumbles of thunder;

A calling to let go. Still, this weary cloud grips tight,

On to the burdensome form it knows.

Drab grey puffballs smother my vision, suffocate my being,

Gaining in weight as I billow aimlessly. Until,

A thunderous crack of discontent marks my stand with Truth,

On the holy battlefield within.

A gift of surrender; the sweet release of mind’s grip,

Brings forth an electric torrent of divine revelations,

A tornado of chaos, flash floods of loss and destruction.

A perfect storm; an emptying of all I thought I was.

I am lighter, brighter, snow white wisps of cirrus cloud.

Golden rays of inner sunshine burn through my dross,

Bringing clarity, understanding and gratitude as each speck evaporates,

Into the clear vast openness of the divine sky within,

Until nothing remains but Love.

If this poem resonates with you, feel free to comment…

Life is a giant jigsaw,

Thousands of motley shaped pieces;

Work, family, home, hobbies, relationships,

I try to fit neatly together.

two hands connect the puzzle details, against the sky of the sun.

Image: stock photos

Constantly, I search for the next piece,

A new job, home, dress, diet,

To create a better picture,

Of what life should look like.

As I strive harder to find the right one,

To wedge that perfect looking job,

Into other ever moving parts,

A growing sense of unease arises.

For I see that the picture guide,

My mind has been trained to create,

Through parents, school, generations of society,

Is fundamentally flawed.

The focus on the piece,

Choosing bright harmonic colours,

Instilled with significant content,

Yet shaped to be compatible,

Engenders a striving,

To find perfection in the fragment,

A resistance to viewing the bigger picture,

Where shadows compliment the light.

Each branch of the puzzle unending,

The pieces multiply with my attention.

The more I strive, the further and hazier,

The goal seems to be.

My attention stays stuck on the outer,

A perpetual desire to change the effect.

What if I change the image?

Shift my focus to my inner Beloved?

Trust that He’s handed me,

The perfect piece.

And ask for His Love,

To help me place it.

The one He hands me,

Is not the easiest to place,

Or the prettiest to look at.

Not what I would have chosen.

A dark shadowy fragment.

Sharp edged and oddly angled,

Awkward to handle,

Ugly to the eye.

An irksome blast from my past,

For so long avoided.

A relationship severed,

An attitude entrenched.

Through Love’s guiding hand,

These difficult parts of the puzzle,

Transform into the magnificence,

Of realisations hard won.

It’s not about the puzzle,

Or the picture it creates,

But seeing that in each conundrum given,

Lies the potential for Grace.

For each fragment of karma gifted,

Becomes sacred when alchemised

By the well of Love within.

Bringing me closer….

To mastering the art,

Of the Master puzzler,

Of becoming the force of Love,

That guides the way.

To stepping out of the never-ending

Enigma of life,

And into the ultimate destiny,

Of my own divinity.

Grace And Flow

The Magnificent Storm

The Master Puzzler