It Was The Morning Light

It was the morning light that told me I am God

And now you think me to be egoic, full of pretentious self-worth

a prophetic loud mouth who imposes his views on your peaceful world

you dream me to be something other than I am not

because I said, I am God

But you did not see the streams of unrelenting pleasure the sky drew

the vast swathes of mystics breath that blew immeasurable joy

If I named the colours it would be just sounds and words and thought

nothing lived

nothing died within your heart

nothing was reborn

In some abhorrent uncivilised cultures they teach children that nature has no voice

that the trees are silent and incapable of love

that the dark-sky pearls that glimmer on no moon night do not sing

and that the movements and grace of the heart are not the single most exquisite dance life can offer

In these cultures they teach the young of limitations and fears and concrete and greed

they teach their children that magic is not the very breath they breathe

Such violence they speak!

Such pain they suffer

I urge you to wake in the merging dawn of darkness and light

to relinquish the beasts of sleep

and step outside

to look up and be patient

Allow your eyes to inhale what they see

to teach you

and not, you teach them

Allow the mellow brilliance of light to emerge

to hold you

If you press your ear to its heart

it will roar its love for you

and it will whisper in the deepest silence of awe

Love is God

and you

are Love

San Marcos, Lago de Atitlan, Guatemala // 08”02”18

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