Hmmm, how do I say this?
It is a clue, an insight
That dawns on me this morning.
Through the window I watch
A very soft, fine rain
Drizzling quite beautifully.

I am drawn out of myself,
Out of my shell and
The long habit of regarding me -
Me! That demanding God -
As something confined within
The walls of this body.

It's a strange god, this me,
That never seems fully satisfied
But always needs new nourishment,
New distractions -
I would have thought a god to be
More content and self-reliant -
And I can't shake the suspicion
That this god has been moulded,
Merely imagined,
Using the body and its
Demanding appetites
As a template.

My true self, surely,
When one seeks deeply enough,
Searching for its most fundamental source
And not allowing oneself to be fooled
Or tricked by the transient images of
Manifested phenomena,
Must be one with
The ultimate source of
The universe,
Arising with it at the moment of
The big banging light of creation
And even before then when and
Where our thoughts and imaginings
Cannot pierce, cannot go.

The idea of a self, of a me,
Gives rise to the idea of not-self
And this is the most fundamental and
Basic relationship conceivable but
Rarely contemplated in our
Flickering and busy worlds.
Other people take shape,
Are holographic splinters
Coming from this holy Other.
Love - that unstoppable desire -
Draws us outward
And away from the dreamy comfort
Of our own imagined selves.
To love another as you love yourself
Slowly cracks and begins to break
That wall we erect around this place,
This body, and call home, call Me.

Slowly, I wonder...
I feel the insisting draw
Of the world around me,
Without which I cannot be.
The thought occurs that
I am truly to be found
As much and equally
In a drop of rain,
or a window pane,
Or the sound of a passing car,
Or in any other perceivable thing,
As i am to be found in this particular shell
I call my body - both home and prison
To our eternal, true spirit.