May what I make of life most signify
For how it brings about awakening,
First in myself, who, hard as I may try,
Once roused, too soon returns to suffering—
Which is the lot of our unconsciousness,
Bound down by Ego’s cravings and demands
Who, striving for its personal success
Ignores what blissful knowing understands.
The bliss of higher consciousness reveals,
In silence and repose, the peace of love,
A commonality Ego conceals
By ever looking downward, not above.
May what I write not only lift my sight
But orient my readers toward the light.