Every time you want to
grow God in the world,
reveal your real FACE.
Every time you let the mask slip,
your face
squints
from the Sun
reflecting back to you
your undiluted FACE.
When I was a kid in the 50’s and 60’s, the Sun looked and felt way more yellowish in texture. Our amnesia was just beginning to merge with our awakening. This Sun now looks and feels way more white, love undiluted in texture as I rub my fingers across its FACE.
It hurts now as this Sun reflects my FACE, magnifying it, burning off my anger, my rage, my shame. I always thought I was a black cinder lying on a white carpet becoming blacker and blacker from the harsh contrast.
No, I’m not a black cinder.
I’m not a white carpet.
I’m the loosely woven,
lit from within tsunami of orbs
stitched together and bubbling up
to dance on the Surface of Source.

