This morning I awakened
with love all around, aware.
Afore I say more let me
make myself perfectly clear.
I waked up this morning with
not a thing in my world changed
worth reporting: same bed, lamp,
desk, chair, shelf, books, fan whirring.
All things sane, insane, quite same
in my world. Yet here is this:
My point of view was askew
from when I did go to sleep.
I no more was in the world,
the world proved to be . . . in me.
Then, one more evident change,
I proved to be no lone me.
Because the One, the Only
loomed there aware, lovingly,
all around: every where,
all the while: every when.
All ordinary, quite plain,
not a thing to be explained,
only a thing to be done—
dedicate a life to love . . .
perfect a love for other,
distinct, yet never discrete.
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