One, Only

So long as i abide by

the world of things and thinking,

i will never lay my eyes on 

the One, the Only I.

And yet, as i linger in

the mist, my wistful worry,

i await the refining of

the one, the only me.

So while i wait for my me 

to wake up, grow up, clean up,

i can make up my me by

constant practice of presence.

And so i apply patience . . .

forgiving each and ev’ry

perceived harm done unto me, yes,

the one, the only me.

And i apply compassion . . .

being kind to all who cross 

my path, as all do suffer me,

the one, the only me.

And i apply gratitude . . .

being generous with all

for what’s being given to me,

the one, the only me.

Then in the fullness of time 

i shall tell my life’s story 

in the face of that true glory . . . 

the One, the Only I.