-All That is Left is Love-

-All That is Left is Love- 

Fragile the flower that springs from out the soil of compassion. Fragrant, the delicate blossom doth issue from each supple velvet bud. Yet, finespun are the petals of kindness, too easily bruised between ardent fingers, or crushed beneath the soles of determined gait. The ruined rose tenders full fragrance sweet, too late, the thorn and flesh do meet, ne'er again to brush fair loves soft silent silken cheek.

In the end.... all that is left, is Love.

© Richard Michael Parker 2013
 

As an aside... I was awoken at 4am the evening before that with a very sharp pain in my chest, and I have to say I thought then that was it...

The strangest thought came over me, in that moment. I found myself praying of sorts... Not for myself, but for everyone I had known, forgiving them all for anything they had done to me that may not have been kind or had tied them to me in some bad karmic manner... Such a strange thing to do I thought afterwards, but it just instinctively came out of me as I thought I was about to have the next big attack and that would be it. Strange what lurks in the heart of us isn't it. All that seemed important was that those I had shared this life with be freed from any burden associated with having known me.

I don't know why i did that...

Actually, I do know why I did that...

It was simply a matter of love. In that moment, everything else was stripped away and the truth of a soul in the grace of love was all that remained. With the imminent demise of my own body, the core of who I was, was suddenly thrust to the fore, and all the petty squabbles, and foolishness that had gone before, simply fell to the floor, and all I was left, was that which sits in the core of my heart.

If in that moment, I could have spared the suffering of those who had connected with me in this life, and had born upon their own souls, the heavy conscience of actions born of ignorance or blinded through some separation from love, instituted by the deceit of all that we place between ourselves and the love that resides in our inner being, I simply would have. Removing every object that casts so long a shadow between the lives we share, simply to recognize that between us there are only the objects of our own expectations, our own desires and disappointments, erected to fulfill voids constructed where love once shone.

I did not for one instant want anyone or any soul to suffer because of me, or for anything they may have done or felt because of me... and though it may sound strange, or peculiar, in that instant all that was important to me was the forgiveness I could give to others, that they be shed from the burden they may carry because of me... the walls and towers erected to forestall the dawn, for nothing else seemed important in the twilight of my own fleeting hour.

That is the truth, and in that moment, that was what I wanted for my final wish, or thought, or gift upon this earth. Meagre as my own footprint has been. I know it sounds strange, but it was purely instinctual... and came from the very core of my heart, I could no longer have stopped this overwhelming instinct than have stopped my own heart, which I believed at that moment was about to stop of it's own accord.

You just don't know until your there baby... It's pointless pretending that you do. But I will say this... All the detritus, all the shabby moth eaten cloth, or silken shimmering regalia we tout as our own, and which we shimmer in this world, simply gets stripped away, in an instant the sham of the egoistic scam vanishes in a puff air... a breath, so close, it's warm vapour is the brother of death. But then... I knew this anyway!... because this isn't the first time I have been there.

And it isn't about being this or that, a better soul or a worse one... All those judgment calls that seem so important now... Seem so ridiculous in the face of the truth. All of it seems ridiculous in the face of love.

The timeless epiphanic moment, in which you realize that things are acausally connected across eons, and that your minuscule grasp of what is really going on, and your attempt to make meaning out of your life, is simply a perspectival trick, and all the judgment calls you make, about your life and others lives are simply created and generated by a mind that is indoctrinated with a partial understanding of where it stands in the greater scheme of things. Indeed, even within its own evolution as a soul...

The entire making deals with this, or that, or pretending we have any grip on the importance of our lives, and associations with others, that have come into our lives, are simply mirages of humanistic hubris. Men and women, playing God, with our minuscule perceptions of reality... Seeing the world through the eyes of an ant, and speaking our truths as if those truths were the universal truth of all creation... vanity!... Shameful and humorous vanity!

But what in the end is not vanity, is the love that courses through your own soul, because in the end, everything else gets stripped away, everything you cling to, burnt, including everything you think you know about what is going on, and why it happened the way it happened. The world is more vast, and the associations and meaningful connections we make are more complex than we could ever comprehend.

In the end.... all that is left, is Love.

© Richard Michael Parker 2013