Let it burn the ashes of what we may know,
the whispers of what we may hope, and what we can do.
Our habit of doing meddles with the blossoming of presence.
Presence fills my heart with incredible silence,
the substratum of our being is the silent bliss.
Let's witness its poesis;
Its dynamic non-becoming.
Our thinking is the veil,
covering the oceanic flow of grace.
Be kind to the fleeting cows,
they will settle down to their own place.
Be gentle to the terrifying storms,
it will return to its kind composure.
In absence of trust, mind and heart are separated.
One is covered with the mysteries of questions;
the clouds of ignorance.
Other one remains a witness to ordeals and lies;
their impossible possibilities.
In the presence of grace,
duality of me and other evaporates,
like water droplet into the clouds.
Be kind to your mind,
it longs for the union with the faith.
Faith inheres in the cosmic soul of presence.
Witness! O Witness Consciousness, your own grace, your own presence;
In love and strife,
In union and separation,
In reality and fake.
Your presence is in everyone,
You are everywhere.
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