People seem to be threatened by cognition of bliss,
tying, corralling the ineffable with definitions.
How can words surround without restricting open-ended bliss?
Have we no faith in a loving Creator?
Have I no faith in my co-creating higher Muse?
Suffering, disappointments, traumas, desolation — these are not voice of deities
demanding or displeased. These are natural consequences of forces set in motion
impervious to prayer, blind to persons, unaware of individual woe.
Meaningless occurrence we empower by attributions of guilt, blame,
Take a little turn, I tell me, into a truer dimension of perception.
Bliss is the source condition, essence of
all space in, around, between.
This is the Creator’s plan, Eden’s blueprint, Paradise here and hereafter.
This is Christ’s salvation, Buddha’s enlightenment, Mohammed’s dream,
Zarathustra’s revelation. This is the holy secret Great Goddess whispers
in cradling lullaby.
All of consciousness, all that life can gift, is an option to open eternally
into completion as full awareness of bliss. Breathe in the healing.
Breathe out the stale pain.
Laugh in the chilling rain, yes, even as the tsunami hits, the Earth quakes,
erupting ash burns, take my hand, my word, my promise.
A universe of bliss is ours for the accepting. It costs nothing but our sins,
misconceptions, resistance to true unfettered life, immersion in immortal soul.