Oh, how busy is my ego, that tries to pin down things
That perpetually wax and wane, and come and go, to and fro.
Like the flower of youth that does or does not bear fruit,
Then fades away into the ever lengthening frozen river of time.
It does no good to focus on happiness in this vale of tears and tribulations,
Lest the storms that rage in my mind damage the peaceful garden in my soul.
I am like a donkey who is maneuvered, by means of the carrot of pleasure
And the stick of pain, to satisfy my material desires.
When I die, I will retreat into the spirit world searching for unity.
My sight will be united, together with all shapes and colors.
My hearing will be united, together with silence and all sounds
My mind will be be united together with all languages and thoughts,
Like rivers coming from the ocean flow back into the same ocean.
I will die at the right time; me to die and you to live on.
Which of us goes toward what is best is known only to God.
Oh my wandering soul, fragile host and companion of my body,
To what places will you go when it is our time to surrender?
Come Holy Spirit, Creator blest, and in my heart take up Thy rest;
Come with thy grace and heavenly aid, to fill the heart that you made.
(Bob Mrotek 2024)
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