We beat our disconnected drums.
We flail and rail to and fro in syncopated
Rhythm with the stars, And know it not.
Searching for Home outside,
We cluster to prophets, When we are one.
We worship at the feet of imaginary angels, When we are one.
We avow allegiance to hierarchies, When we are one.
We fall prostrate before symbols we’ve made holy, When only the holy can make holy.
And all the time Home is with us.
Carried in a pregnant heart
Peaceful, loving, waiting
For the proper time to release the love When we are ready, When we cease to beat and flail, When we see that we see not all.
Then halts the discordant symphony,
Awakens the vast silence.
Virgin breeze flows over hot skin.
Closing our eyes, we sink deep within
To seat ourselves securely on
The Throne of Home, From whence all Peace, All Harmony, All Love arise.
We pry open our minds and catapult
Into an awareness of Being
That proves Eternal time, Infinite space.
When we are ready, When we know ourselves to be One In the silence and absence of concept.