The One in All

April 16. 2014

All this life is marvellous and pain

No more nor less than pleasure one might say,

For all assumes its place when what we gain

Is inner growth in stations on the way.

Loss is terrible to contemplate,

We are consigned to it, our human tale,

And yet it's joy towards which we gravitate

And love our foundation stone although we fail

And fall at times and time and again must rise

And bear the conflagrations of our past,

For that which burns us also purifies

And that which seems ephemeral shall last

Beyond the setting of ten thousand suns.

Self-pity is the most piteous state,

For oneness like a sacred river runs

Carrying our betrayals and our hate

That we may find when all seems dead or lost

The inner compass that we call the soul

A millennium of births is a small cost

For us to recognize the One in all.