The more tender and open we become
The more profound is the beauty
That reveals itself to us
The beauty is always here
It is us who are not available, for we are not here

Sometimes we may stumble upon this beauty
By grace, accident or great shock
Some have seen it in the space between life and death
Yet always these moments are fleeting
And leave us with longing and desire
To become established in that beauty, that love

And there the journey home really begins
The unravelling of what was once thought true
The meeting of ones darkness and what was denied
The falling, the grasping, the letting go
As the unknown looms large with great portent

And we may even become distracted for some time
By the imagination, as it dreams of what that beauty looks like
The mind is tenacious and hijacks everything
Including the truth, and it will tell us we know what to look for
And this detour may prevail for years

But by and by everything that is not the true path
Becomes a dead end

And we are left naked and vulnerable
And in that nakedness is our innocence
And in that innocence is the beauty
We so desperately sought
We must return to the garden naked and empty.

Image by Lee_seonghak from Pixabay