To purity of light devote, whole-heartedly, your healing heart,
And you will see the world as ally, not a traitor.
Remember that your life is Art,
And you are — its Creator.
For every aspect of your life determine false it is or true,
That grows is which you nurture.
The present give your full attention to,
To end this never-ending torture.
Let go and blissfully proceed at one with life,
World’s wrongs don’t need self-righteous righting.
The war’s been over for a long time,
But we’re still blindly fighting.
Injustice outside yourself you see,
Driven by lack and morbid fear.
“This is how world is,” you subserviently without questioning agree,
It’s not — world’s only of your own projections mirror.
Discernment is the very core of growth,
To all life forms develop friendly disposition.
Don’t worry if you’re good or bad — you’re both,
Consider neutral as a more virtuous position.
All prior rules and superstitions set aside,
Don’t keep around one, not even if it’s oldie and a goodie.
Quit under faulty mask of imperfection hide,
Your own soul’s breathtaking dashing beauty.
Walking in circles till you bleed,
Life is a gift — on violence don’t waste it.
Your pain’s a doorway to get free,
Just brace yourself and face it.
Inside you lives impostor — this is whom you starve,
Of old beliefs, thoughts and emotions it is avid hoarder.
Your outmost compassion helps it find the courage to dissolve,
Into life’s greater harmony and order.
Impulsive habit of your old reactions tame,
And autocratic ruler within will be overthrown.
While you’re still playing someone else’s game,
I now wish to depart and start playing my own.
Goodbye to you, all those who will be left behind,
Don’t stay too long in your well-put-together hell-staycation.
I’m now off on my way to gently try and realign,
With life’s more interesting and wondrous vibrations.
For all the lessons — thank you, life, you taught me really well,
Dispelled the knowledge, slowly let the knowing brighten.
Just as you told me it was, always, only Farewell,
That I was missing To Enlighten.
The accuracy of description that my fingers wrote –
My weary eyes could not believe it.
To Dark the Light is truly only antidote,
And now this poem and this chapter of my life are, finally, completed.
A.B. Wisely ©