The Glory

He had heard the stories of miraculous transformations,
how one must first be willing to surrender everything,
even their life, for the sake of the truth’s revelation.

That was the story — “no guts, no glory.”
There are many stories. Endless.

He wasn’t interested in stories of glory, nor was there
anything about him which required transformation.
The miracle had already happened — here we are!

Everything was already modifying itself, nothing
remained the same — not him, not the big mind,
not the universe which was consciousness itself,
not ordinary beings who became extraordinary,
not the sky, earth, or water gods. Nothing.

Just so, he finally sat down and focused on his breath.
He was breathing, but then he was being breathed.
Then there was only breathing, breathing.

Had anything changed, except perception?
He did not ponder, there was no contemplation.

Some say the pure light is the exhalation of God,
although whatever is said or known does not matter.

There is a great respiration. The whole universe
keeps appearing and disappearing, appearing
and disappearing, now a bird in the distance
is sweetly singing — listen, that is the glory.




About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
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