I did not find it in text on a page,
However much the words evoked the inner shimmering.
This is not to say that I did not read.
I did not find it in the eyes of my teachers,
However much they emanated Benediction.
This is not to say that I did not meditate with them.
I did not find it in the Beauty of outward objects,
Although they gave rise to that Sweet Welling Up.
This is not to say that I did not Love Beauty.
I did not find it…
In any object or experience “outside” myself.
This is not to say that I did not Love this Dream of form.
This is only to say
That the Kingdom of Heaven was,
So much in the Manifest World evoked the Love Within.
But it was the turning inward of wandering Attention,
That brought the Wanderer…
In a quest for Heaven,
That included both Heart and Mind,
The two entered the Inner Gate…
How could I have known,
That it was myself that I sought,
My own nature as Formless Pure Being.
Before ever “i” existed.
And the Ecstasy of Heaven?
The Unalloyed Ecstasy,
Of my own Pure Being.
Not a place,
But an Experience.
In which Inner and Outer,
Within and Without,
And the Wanderer himself…