Christmas Thoughts

It’s not your birth that astounds me,
it is your death.

You made an instrument of torture
into a place in the heart where Nature gleams.

By accepting suffering
and burning up the ego–

–like ringing a bell, you showed that all I love
and all I am were inseparably divine all along.

Here inside, as close as my heart.
Not out there somewhere, right here.

That was you. You did that.
No one can un-ring that bell, ever.

That was the work
Of a master poet.

Happy birthday,
Jerusalem Slim.

2 responses to “Christmas Thoughts

  1. Wow…. You’ve made something that usually eludes me alive, immediate, and personal. Beautifully done.

    Liked by 1 person

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