No 5 – A Poem of World

When I was born,
a world was born.
Images that only my eyes could see,
sounds that only my ears could hear,
thoughts that only I could think.
I, the creator and the created of this world,
an emissary of God.

When you were born,
a different world was born.
Images that your eyes see, but mine can’t.
Sounds that your ears can hear, but mine cannot grasp.
Thoughts that you try to explain
but I can never fully absorb.
You, the creator and creature of your world,
an emissary of God, just like me,
on a different mission,
with the same destination.

In my world
I see beauty that was made only for me,
love that no one could give like I do,
opportunities created for the expansion of my world alone.
It is a gracious gift by my creator,
and my eyes and ears and hands
are my gift for him.

Me, and you, and all of us,
windows into this world,
an invitation to experience
the magnificent multitude of consciousness.
I am the window to this world,
in me, a window to the universe.

When I look up at the sky,
I see the limits of my world flickering,
the stars in my heaven that dictate my fate.
I am at their mercy.
When I look up and around
I see threads of fate,
circling around me,
the borders I cannot cross.
Within them I find my identity,
within them I face my limits.
Locked in by beliefs and patterns
older than my waking consciousness,
I see no beginning and no end
of their conditioning.

In your world,
beauty has a different fragrance,
and the melody of your life
is so very different to mine.
I cannot see the doors and obstacles in your world,
but their opening and closing amazes me to no end.
Your gift has a different shape,
its packaging another feel.

I can see the stars in your heaven
dictating your fate, too.
It is a different fate.
But you are at its mercy just like I am.
When I try to look beyond my world,
I can see destiny’s threads flirting around you,
patterns that lock your gaze.
At times your limits seem so obvious to me,
and I approach you with a well thought‑out map,
as to how to navigate your obstacle course.
But I am not a citizen of your country.
The laws of your world elude me,
and my map is useless.

I see so many worlds around me.
With every child born
a new world arises.
The world will never be seen
exactly like that again.
With every death, a world dies,
a perspective lost,
a facet ceases.
An endless coming and going
of expression and experience.

Sometimes all I see are borders,
clouds passing from one heaven to the next,
moods changing,
lives being lived in darkness.
There is a dense fog all around.
Every world rattled by the ebb and flow
of the emotional sea.
The waves spilling over
from one world to the next,
a roaring of seas
that devours the inner melody.

At times I can hear your waves
crashing against your shore,
violent and desperate.
Other times the sea is calm.
Each with their own weather.
My sunshine cannot reach your rain.
But what if your soil needs the rain
and I just cannot see it.

Sometimes all I see are borders,
a cosmic incarceration…
Other times,
all I see is freedom,
because the freedom is just as real
as the prison.

O how I wish
I could expand my world into yours.
How I wish I could feel your weather,
not just observe it.
But not just yours.
Not a twofold world
in a world of millions.
All of them.

In my heart of hearts
I contain multitudes.
I am my world
and I am all worlds,
my idiosyncratic view,
and the expansion of my gaze.

Looking outside,
I am locked in
by a magnetic field of conditioning.
Looking inside,
I am free.
There is a key,
in the center of my world,
a loophole
that leads to the universe.
A silent place of reckoning
that patiently awaits
the return of my consciousness.

• What beauty exists in your world that only you can see?
• Whose world do you wish you could feel more fully, and why?
• Where in your life do borders limit your perception, and where do you feel freedom?

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