Did You Know You Are the Gift of Grace

I had an insight and felt to write a poem.

To you in love and peace. It is all good. Really …

YOU ARE THE GIFT OF GRACE

How can one describe the moment of truth?
The moment of ah ha is sudden,
A flash that moves you,
As you shudder with realisation,
Awareness opens like a present,
The ribbons and wrapping falls away,
And you are left with the beauty of no thing,
For the real gift is letting go,
Of the past.

The emotion erupts like an urgent spring,
Fresh and raw as rigid thinking thaws,
Resonating with the insight you saw,
Or saw you,
To be sure,
To be sure,
And you laugh between sobs,
As the truth releases its pointless struggle,
Of change,
Right and wrong,
Winning,
Losing,
Having,
Succeeding,
To know you are success,
You are emptiness,
No thing,
You are the witness of the passing parade,
Yet always it passes,
As each moment re-minds you
of uncertainty.

It is in the not knowing,
Not needing to know,
That allowance becomes freedom,
Surrender becomes victory,
For over the annals of time we were taught,
Control this wild life,
Make things happen,
Get it right,
Amass a fortune,
To find it is a hopeless aspiration,
Perspiration in search of what?
To discover the jewel is the real wealth
To know thyself,
To know
it is not true.

Many come and go,
A rainbow of colours shining fairy lights,
Twinkling, winking and glowing,
Turning on,
Turning off,
Holding their own lanterns of truth,
To illuminate their road just up ahead,
Companions on this journey called life.

I see each as a sacred blessing,
Their incense flaming, burning,
Silently twisting, turning,
Permeating this world with the sweetest aroma,
For truth has a fragrance of purity one cannot hold,
Nor can it be seen,
It is old yet ageless,
It is felt as joy’s elixir,
For the thoughts of peace spiral into the ether,
Returning to zero,
As zero tolerance becomes unlimited acceptance,
For my life was never my own,
And I can own no-one’s life,
As I realise non-resistance releases one’s life over
to our true nature,
As we flow and grow as a vine in search of the sun,
Accepting all as the gift,
As the taste of grace,
Is endless.