Die before you die —
and awaken to eternal life.
All that is asked is Faith:
surrender simply,
and watch your being melt away.
The world's veil falls;
distance is undone.
No longer circling
birth's and death's rim,
you begin to see
the hidden face of truth.
Friend, this the Real taught me:
in a house of shifting shadows
it steadies the soul to know —
we are not fragile ice,
but sparks of undying flame;
not meant to vanish
like morning mist,
but always drawn
toward the Infinite Sun.
The Real is my Lord—
without rival, without peer.
From His star-breath
my soul was kindled.
If His breath is unborn,
ever-living, self-sustained,
how could I be only mortal?
Enter the secret ocean within;
gaze into its mirrored sky.
There truth rises—
quiet, unhurried,
unfolding without end.
— September q6,2025
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem