In the stillness before thought,
a single light awakens,
unbroken, undivided -
the pulse of Emptiness,
beating within all.
You are not the seeker,
nor the path, nor the goal.
You are the flame itself,
forgotten in the dream of forgetting.
All this: the mountain's roar,
the river's song, the weeping of stars;
is your own face,
shimmering in the mirror of Self.
Consciousness, out of its own freedom,
spins the dance of worlds,
binding itself in play,
only to delight in its own unfolding.
Veils of thought, of form, of sorrow,
are but veils of your own weaving.
The bondage and the liberation -
woven of one thread.
At any moment,
with a breath, with a glance,
you may recognize:
I am That.
Nothing is gained,
nothing was lost.
Only the Heart remembered itself,
eternal, whole, free.


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