O love! I wake without a tinge of hate
For you or her or anybody else;
I wait without a singe of poverty,
But the majestic depth of spiritual wealth.
Gloat not in this rough maze of material
Extending in the geometric distance;
Hold fast to those things we can't hold at all
Because possession is a brutal myth.
I lost my self, my things, my mind, my me,
My nose, my ears, my sense, my sovereignty
When I surrendered to an ideal god.
I hope and pray beyond a personal "I"
That all may find a peace beyond these trials
And rest in the sublimity of love.
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