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.