UNTITLED IX

Untitled IX

The languishing
of a candle
melting in a heap,
the wisps of smoke
in circles adrift,
I see you O God
of my personal belief.
Grant me no godhood
which fills me with ME
and nothing else but me.

Let the world not see my fault as yours.
No need to justify your ways O God;
do not go so far as they may call you a fraud
and the bounty you grant may be seen as a load.
The wisps of smoke
have already dispersed;
the candle will die out too.
I want to hear you laugh
loud and clear
and in the clarity of your laughter O God,
may all other sounds drown and not
rise again.

While this body is still going strong
and i clearly hear the gong
take away the quill and the pen O God
and grant me not
the drunken fame
 of the hour, the name.
Soft is the note of thy music, and softer still
is thy voice O God.

God was the name I gave
to that awareness within,
a feeling, the note I heard within,
a constant light
and when too close, a flame, a blazing fire that annihilates.
A constant presence that never leaves
and if asked to prove, a silence prevails.