The Sacred Dart

I am in the softly cooing dove the sunlight shining from far above
the gusting of the rustling wind
the composting of fallen leaves
surrendered by the towering trees

i am in the traffic on the road
and in the ragdoll newly sewed
 in the freshly fallen quince
and in the birdbath newly rinsed
i am  in the range of the teachers dart
with the possibility of seeing the Most Perfect Heart

i am in the whistle of the itinerant worker
and equally present in the stride of the eternal shirker
i am in a sacred moment aware
of the I given to all
by God’s most precious Care.

I am in love and in devotion
in soft words largely unspoken
in that eternal space within
where by Grace, despite some sin
I am held in the most tender embrace
with the fiercest of love
All in the Presence of the cooing dove.

        With hearfelt love and nuture to Bholonath.