When the illusion of separateness takes hold,
we forget we are as bright as the sun.

We bathe in the shallow waters of competitiveness,
Never realizing we have been stung with poison.

When the illusion of separateness takes hold, we close our eyes to the variety of god.
We forget to hear the wind sing us a serenade,
Slowly anesthetizing the sweetness of her melodies.

When the illusion of separateness takes hold, we forget compassion.
We dance to the tune of death,
Building wealth upon the graves of our enslaved.

When the illusion of separateness takes hold, we become as savage cannibals.
We eat the hearts of those we claim to know not,
But in the dark of the night,
we point to the same moon as our guiding mother light.

Disrobe your ignorance and return to the source.
For it is death that teaches us to be still and know all is god.

Die to the world and live to see the ripening of the fruit!

For the sunlight, wind, rain, hands, hearts, join presently to
create the nectar that trickles down after the first sweet bite.

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Assistant Editor: Cami Krueger/Editor: Bryonie Wise

Photo: Wiki Commons