The Task


The task
becomes the gift.
Grace keeps our
feet above the water.
Grace is not charity
rather a golden crown
seated on pure love.

Do not act with constraint
leaving smudges of resentment
branding you as less than willing.
“I must, I should” are curses.
“I long to, I can,” are honey
on one’s lips.

I see without eyes
hear without ears.
There is no more whip
or reward. The lock
falls away. Unshackled, free from
slavery, the curse has ended.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to The Task

  1. JanBeek says:

    “No more whip or reward” … only the reward of a life well lived and a heart filled with appreciation for what you “see without eyes” and “hear without ears.” Beautifully noted, I might add!


  2. Pingback: The Task — Source of Inspiration | O LADO ESCURO DA LUA

  3. patgarcia says:

    Thank you. This meditation is beautiful.


  4. Bhaga says:

    Reblogged this on Lab of Evolution and commented:
    A ‘crown on pure love” indeed.


  5. dykewriter says:

    something about reaches exceeding grasps comes to mind

    perhaps the flip side of grudging


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