the tender mercies

the tender mercies of endless love, like a river flowing, envelope the heart and soul with tears pouring from heaven for the sufferings of the embodied spirits, forgetful of their penance and following the wayward directions of their thoughts, leading further and further from the source of truth. one by one in the procession of foolish distractions, each body delights and is driven deeper into the drama and taken away from the dharma, postponing the sadhana for the meager crumbs of their physical lives. the list of desire is endless in its need and vital awareness, what next will satisfy what prevents the singular and short lived joy of satisfaction without release from all bondage. each day a sun shows the way and the darkness shuts out the light, though moons revolve and shimmer inside billions of reminders of the emptiness that exists everywhere. alone yet crowded on every side, pushed and pushing back the mass of individuals erases their memories and creates new ones to suit their fancies. no hope only fear the reward for all the giving and taking and losing and gaining that every heart endures. this life this patterned suffering of existence that is a mystery to most everyone and a madness that has no end for there is no way to control the path from opening the eyes to the final breath taken, yet the struggle ensures nothing but more struggle. there is a joy beyond this, a light that has no sun and knows no darkness within. the truth of being  that life alone can know, can find and never lose. this is the home of the eternal soul and the source of all that is. the transition from eternal being to the embodied singularity of the flesh leaves no trace except in the stillness and silence of the heart letting go, releasing the inbred desires and vital necessities and laying all at the feet of the divine self within. once you know you would give up anything to know your divine being, then all is simple, if your devoted to the divine, there is only clinging to that truth. all else is the illusion of separation, right down to the air and the flesh meeting and losing sense of which is which. the world breathes you as you become the atmosphere of existence