The day will surely come, if you Love,
When you're no longer able to feel,
Where The Beloved ends, within,
And what's left of you begins.
What's left of you will swirl,
Tumbling and turning,
Like the confused waves,
Where river meets Ocean.
Are you two, Lover and Beloved,
Or One, dreaming of two?
What's left of you,
Will be too Drunk to ask…
Having sipped The Beloved's Wine.
The Beloved is the Living Water,
Within which what's left of us,
Sinks, Dissolving, like salt doll.
The Beloved is the Air,
Within which what's left of us,
Flutters like a dry leaf.
The Beloved is the Earth,
Which will receive what's left of us,
When we fall.
The Beloved is the Fire,
Consuming what's left of us,
Ashes, clinging to Her feet.
The Beloved is The Comforter and Teacher,
The Giver of Roses, the Server of Wine.
The Wellspring of Grace.
Nearer than what's left of us,
Dearer than what's left of us,
Hoo!
Where does what's left of us,
Seek the Wellspring of Grace?
Within… ever more deeply, within.
And what is the Key to Union,
To Liberation and Illumination,
To the Dissolution of what's left of us?
Love, above all else.
For like a fruit ripening, in time,
You become what you Love.
Love Itself.
