Certainly our body is not like this,

Neither is the world we see

But Consciousness, of which our body is made,

Our thoughts are made,

Is like that.

 

We settle in and know.

And perhaps, through Grace,

In the middle of walking the dog,

Polishing the silverware,

Driving to work,

Suddenly we experience we are this Consciousness,

Transparent, Shining, Unbreakable.

 

Then we become a friend to ourself,

Happy, friendly, useful to all.

 

Advertisements