In Rains of Wonder

There are those who wander,
Outside the walls of religion,

Belief, and descriptions of "Truth",
No longer sufficing,

Faith in a distant Heaven,
Having lost its allure.

They do not condemn the walled,
Who hold to belief or faith,

But embrace those who dwell there,
Holding them dear as Friends.

Only… they cannot live therein,
Having come, instead,
To a Love of the Wilderness,
And the Great Mystery… Undefined.

For it is there, in The Unknown,
That Her Silent Voice whispers.
Not in words “about”, or “descriptions of”,
But in the Intimacy of Direct Experience.

If one must speak of Truth,
It is, for them, Her Felt Presence,
Which stills the tongue of the mind,
Emptying in Fullness, both knower and known.

Love is there, in the Wilderness,
Where Lover and Beloved Vanish.

Fullness and Completion embrace you,
With nothing having been acquired.

Wisdom Shines like a Sun,
Everything having been forgotten.

And Benediction Showers, without cause,
Save… the simple fact of existing.

And yet, so few are moved to wander forth,
From the shelter of belief and “knowledge”,
And stand naked beneath The Infinite Mystery,
Drenched… in Rains of Wonder.