Love Turned The Tide

I understand what it's like,
To turn attention inward,
And not be Greeted…

To hear only the chattering mind,
And be bound to its movements,
As the thinker…

To feel only the contraction,
Of the body, gross and subtle,
That ancient felt sense; dense, and separate…

To feel the hollowness of spirit,
The absence of Communion,
The emptiness and despair…

To fall in terrible defeat,
In the war of self-perfecting,
Striving in vain to become “worthy”.

And I understand what it's like,
To turn attention inward,
And be Greeted by The Beloved…

For the chattering voice within,
To simply be unheard,
No longer the focus of Heart and Mind…

To feel the Body Unlocatable,
And in its place, formless Presence,
Alive, Radiant, Palpable, Visceral…

To know the end of struggling,
The end of attaining, grasping, holding,
And to Rest in the Arms of Grace…

For the Manifest Form, gross and subtle,
To sink like a salt doll into the Depths,
Of the Ocean of the Formless Unmanifest.

What was it, then,
That turned the tide of Despair,
And brought me, thus, to the Far Shore?

Love was the enticement,
That lured Her near,
To Embrace this Weary Heart.

Love was the Song of Grace,
That drowned out the chattering mind,
And liberated Soul from thinker.

Love was the Wine,
That Intoxicated the form, gross and subtle,
As She poured Her Heart into mine.

Love was the Matchmaker,
Who brought us together,
And brought me into Her Gaze.

Love was the Victor,
To Whom “I” Fell, Defeated,
In my struggle for perfection and “worthiness”.